This is What Happens When You Don’t Read Blogs

Since falling off the regular blog reading/blog rounds/blog commenting bandwagon, oh, I guess during the summer, I have missed out on a lot of shit. This was brought home to me very harshly recently when I heard that Bruce of Canuck Attitude had died earlier this month.  I found this out in a snippet I read somewhere, but I cannot remember where right now. I sent off an email to a mutual blog pal and this news was confirmed this morning, with the additional information that Bruce had taken his own life.

I can’t say I knew Bruce well; we met on Harper Valley some years ago during one of Scout’s Famous Stupid People games, and I enjoyed his writing, his attitude, his honesty. We followed each other on Twitter and had some casual commenting exchanges on his blog.

If I had been reading Scout’s blog regularly, I would have found this news out in a timely manner.

The news was all the harder to hear today because I spent last night in a suicidal state so intense I nearly had to call an ambulance for myself.  I was in full-on anxiety mode, having breathing problems, unable to stop crying, with brain zaps and a wicked headache.  I almost passed out when I had to come downstairs and turn off my heat, which I had forgotten to do before I went to bed.  I didn’t sleep a wink, and the familiar tape that plays in my head when I get like this was blasting full volume. The only thing that kept me from calling an ambulance was the fact that I just couldn’t bear to have the neighbourhood witnessing an ambulance arrive at my place at 3am and the gossip that would ensue. Also, I know some of the first responders and I didn’t want to feel humiliated.

So I endured. I got up, parked myself on the couch with a DVD, ate some chocolate, tried to breathe, and eventually dozed off in a fitful state for a couple of hours before finally getting up and starting the whole process all over again.  I made some calls and got some support, and I pulled through.

Turns out I had forgotten to take yesterday’s meds and I was going through withdrawals.

Anyway, tying this into Bruce, I was in this fucked up state this morning when I got the email from the mutual friend telling me of Bruce’s suicide, and providing me some links to other bloggers who had posted about his death.  I got through one, but during the second one, I lost it.

It was simply too close, it was simply bad timing, and that is no one’s fault.

But, God, has it made me think. News of a suicide always triggers a lot of stuff for me, having the history that I do.

Bruce, wherever you are right now – and I know you’re somewhere – I get it. I really, really get it. I get it so much it’s hard to handle.  I hope you’ve found the peace you needed.

I found a bit of peace today. Someone told me they loved me. Someone spent a lot of time on the phone with me today talking to me, calming me, helping me  to make a plan for me to get through the day. Someone told me I could call at 3am if I needed that. And I promised I would. My medication kicked in a few hours later and I was able to complete a Telegraph assignment due tomorrow and do a few simple chores. Other than that, I’ve spent the day in front of the TV watching a Nightwish documentary and several episodes of Cold Squad.  I am now going to go and take more medication and hopefully sleep.

And hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.