Post-Pilot, Why Breaking Point, or Something or Other

DAYS after starting this blog, I have finally decided to write something more updated. The two previous entries are older manuscripts that I selected out of all the crap I keep in my hard drive. I couldn’t at first find myself courageous enough to capture a recent snapshot in my life and translate it into ink and paper. The main reason is that a lot of things have happened that I wish I could just shun lest I paralyze myself again in an intense suicidal condition. I remember vividly one evening about a year ago when I felt 99 per cent that I want to die. It was liberating and beautiful and disgruntling all at the same time -- disgruntling because I am still here, breathing despite my tremendous desire not to. What I did was I put my head in a plastic bag, wore a noose around my neck, and tried to asphyxiate myself to my heart’s content. Unfortunately, it was not entirely effective. All I could feel was blood being blocked from running to my head, which made my tongue curl up hard, and my eyes almost pop out... but I was still breathing fine. I felt that I could keep it that way until morning and still be alive. I even tried holding my breath several times but that did not work. No person, as we all know, could ever hold his breath voluntarily and have it that way forever. There is always that point in which he can no longer hold it and has to breathe again. That, as a friend told me, is called the ‘breaking point.’ And ‘breaking point’ is the root cause of why I am alive right now. I feared that the only things that will come out of that attempt to kill myself were bloodshot eyes and a bruised neck, and I do not want that sort of scandal. So I decided to still live that night, regretfully. And several nights after that I kept on reinventing the whole event in my mind, having it end the way I want it to -- and it never fails to give me a wicked lump in my throat.

I will eventually die through self-induction, though. I will make sure of that. Heaven knows that if I should find out I have this particular fatal disease or whatnot, I will kill myself first before it kills me. I also fear aging so I intend to beat that to the punch. For now, however, while I am trying my best to stay numb and ignore all those awful things that make me all the more convinced that I should die as soon as a minute from now, I will populate this blog with entries the term ‘breaking point’ can be a metaphor for.

Hopefully someone can relate.