Watchman, What of the Night?

Last night Sissyface picked me up so I could watch our reality show, The Hills, at her place. It was the season finale and it just made sense to enjoy it together. During commercial breaks they had trivia questions about the cast of the show; I told her it was pretty pathetic that we knew most of the answers, especially since the typical age range of the viewing audience is about 13-21 years old!

This morning (I'm already beginning to break out into a sweat, knowing that Austin will read this and scold me) I wandered over to the pub for breakfast. YES, I played video poker, I readily admit it! I gambled $10 and pocketed $50--not bad, eh? In the sweet afterglow of my winnings I decided to splurge on breakfast which was oh so yummy and filling.

I'm back at Sissyface's now where I'll be doing housework to earn more money. Gosh, it sure is nice how this works out:  she hates housework and would rather pay me to do it than do it herself. I don't mind it and need the extra bucks, so there we go. Works out for everyone.

I had to promise my granddaughter, Isabella, that I'd only be gone one night. When I came back home Saturday after my 2 weeks absence she said, "Nana, I don't want you to ever go to Auntie's again!"

At some point during my sabbatical from home, I found myself unaccountably struggling with thoughts of suicide. I think what got me thinking along those lines was seeing my mother's handwriting, inadvertently trying on the robe I didn't realize was one of her hand-me-downs, and hearing snippets from Sissyface's trip. Well, whatever caused my suicidal desires I was totally unprepared to deal with them. When such yearnings hit me at a time when I've got too much solitude, it's not a good thing. When I'm all by my lonesome trying to hold back the anguish of so many various parts who are sick to death of living, it doesn't bode well for my emotional stability.

The thing is, my family (and I include my cyber friends in this category) help pull me to the surface everytime I'm in danger of drowning in my age old sorrow. Izzy clinging to me upon my arrival home and telling me she missed me every day, helps. So does Maddy (my 19 month old granddaughter) calling me, "Honey!" The innocent love and devotion of childhood woos me back from the murkiness of self-destructiveness.

The compassionate words of an e-mail, sent to me by a friend who battles the same demons and knows the depths of my particular hell, brings me a little ways back from the brink of no return. Holding my newest grandbaby and breathing in her new baby scent, and glimpsing her deep dimples, does something to dispel the darkness threatening to swallow me whole.

Sometimes inanimate objects work just as well. An especially gorgeous work of art, tulips drooping gracefully in a vase, the smell of hand lotion I wore during easier times and have recently started wearing again as a reminder that this too shall pass.

I don't care what pulls me back each time, I've the humility to not care if it's some hidden inner strength that does the job, or if the credit goes totally to someone else. I've not the luxury of pride----survival's the goal, for if I manage to make it through another day anything can happen. Something breathtaking, perhaps, or even something of a more muted nature which nevertheless makes all the difference in  my slipperyslide into depression.

Even while in the grip of the fiercest desire to die, a part of me stands aloof (a watchman of sorts) on alert for the smallest thing which will tip the scales in favor of my choosing life.

"Watchman, what of the day?" I inquire (quietly, for I am fast losing strength) and she replies:

"The day is not yet done; just a moment or two longer, and help is sure to arrive."

And so I wait until the day has come and gone, and night has set in once more.

"Watchman, what of the night?" I gasp, my breathing ragged and uneven.

"Oh, the night is resplendent with beauty!" my Watchman responds eagerly. "Look up at the multitude of stars . . ."

She needn't say more; these are the same stars I wished on as a child. And though my wishes were rarely if ever granted, the mere sight of the stars twinkling at me as if in goodwill comforts me beyond all expression.

"It is well with my soul," I decide, experiencing that familiar shift deep within which means that somehow disaster has been once more averted.

It seems I've been rescued somehow, one more time. And I don't take it lightly.

I don't take it lightly at all. 

Comments

[Austin]

This post reminded me of Revelation 21:3-6

With that I heard a loud voice from the throne say: “Look! The tent of God is with mankind, and he will reside with them, and they will be his peoples. And God himself will be with them. 4 And he will wipe out every tear from their eyes, and death will be no more, neither will mourning nor outcry nor pain be anymore. The former things have passed away.”

5 And the One seated on the throne said: “Look! I am making all things new.” Also, he says: “Write, because these words are faithful and true.” 6

[Austin]

Watchmen what of the night I know to be from Isaiah 21. Interesting is that Isaiah talked about the abolishment of false idols and the cleaning up of filth so much so that it became like dust on the earth. The way this would apply to abuse is and your watch woman is that she is looking for ways to clean up or destroy the disgusting idols of your past and replace them with wholesome, good hearted and worthwhile things....which is exactly what Isaiah's vision was about....taking out the bad and replacing it with the good.

The scripture in Rev 21:3-6 is a hope filled one that I've known since I was a child. I really like that scripture a lot.

(glad you're still alive and watching)
Austin

[beautifuldreamer]

The whole time I was writing this post, something was nagging in the back of my mind . . . I knew it reminded me of some Scripture which I couldn't quite recall.

I think we all hold on to the "false idols" we were taught to believe in by our abusers, idols of shame and false guilt and feelings of no worth. Perhaps it's only in replacing these false idols with truth that we render them as harmless as a pile of ashes...

[Angie]

I'm so glad that you were rescued:)

I'm always here if you need to talk!

[beautifuldreamer]

Thank you, Angie, that's so sweet of you!

[keepers]

never give up before your miracle can happen, be it 5 minutes or hours or seconds, believe it will show up to shore you up and bring you through to another day. Remember, we are here also, you can write or call if you so desire.

peace and blessings

keepers