Tag Archives: reflection

The Candle

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I went to Survivors of Suicide Loss Day this weekend and everyone lit a candle in memory of their loved one(s). While the conference itself was great, it was the candle that moved me.

As I stared at it I felt & thought many things.

The Candle

5-22-10                 11:31am

  • Guilt – I’m supposed to do something to save it but I don’t want to.
  • Fear – doing something to help it will hurt me or draw attention to me.
  • Helpless – there is nothing I can do to affect the time this candle burns, what I do won’t matter, won’t make a difference.
  • Hopeless – It’s not my place
  • Life – As I watched I noticed a brown speck near the wick just twirling, a sign of life.
  • The Pain of Waiting – I don’t know when but I can’t stop it. I just wait. Like D- and the bus stop. I just want it to stop. I want to blow out the candle. Just make it stop. Please.

I’ve noticed no one else at my table is watching the candle.

When it was lit, I didn’t pay attention. As it burned, I didn’t watch. But I noticed when the white candle was completely clear. Now there’s nothing I can do but watch. If only I had noticed. There’s nothing I can do. This candle is going to kill me.

I want to protect the candle. Fear of someone blowing it out. Wondering if that would be more therapeutic.

I don’t want to eat lunch. I don’t want to leave it.

People eat lunch and talk.

I just watch…

I miss my dad…

I’m tempted to ask how long these candles burn. But no one can know.

I’m angry I can’t change it.

—

Didn’t want to leave but had a good conversation.

Automatic Thought – I shouldn’t be here.

—

Angry. Damn it! Go out candle.

—

Angry – my perspective is so different. I shouldn’t be here.

—

I forgot & went back to blow out the candle. The effect. And I walked away.

I know the people around me did not experience this candle as I did. But it was so powerful. To go through so many emotions and stages of trauma and grief in such a short time with a candle is amazing. It’s powerful and difficult but good. Thank God for the candle.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2010

Be happy for my happiness, Spongebob

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2-21-10 4:30am

I just said that to a friend. Be happy for my happiness, Spongebob.

Yes, I know it’s 4:30 in the morning but I’M HAPPYYYYYYYYYY! (said like “It’s Bacon!” from the Beggin’ Strips dog treats commercial). I want to skip down the middle of my street in the pouring rain and twirl around. (sigh) My happiness is tempered by mom’s barking about going to bed, but the rain is simply intoxicating.

I just listened to the whole cd I bought tonight. The music is even better to the rain. My Spongebob friend, whom I’ve never called Spongebob before, made reference to the difficulty in telling the difference between happiness and hypomania. I don’t really care what it is as long as it’s not destructive. Spending lots of money I don’t have, running in front of cars – bad. Bouncing up and down in the kitchen overwhelmed by the excitement of rain and good music and a good day – not bad.

Tonight I finished most of a project I thought would be really hard in about 10 minutes. I don’t anticipate it being difficult to complete. I did a bunch of fun things, took chances. And I feel GREAT… And I know if I continue to feel great it could be dangerous.

I hate the knowledge. (sigh, shake my head) I hate having to wonder when happy is too happy, if feeling happy tonight and then happy tomorrow will mean another “vacation” sometime soon. What do you do when you want nothing more than to be happy, to feel like I do tonight, but when you’re happy the happiness scares you? Is avoiding a dangerous high worth staying sad for? I don’t think so. Be happy for my happiness, Spongebob. And hope it doesn’t last long. I don’t want that to be my motto.

I want to feel free. I want to fly without fear, to run lightning fast without my mind stopping me. To walk on a beam successfully, you don’t look at your feet. You don’t think about dance, you just dance. Close your eyes and let your feet do the work, let your body feel the motion. Sense the people around you. Be happy for my happiness, Spongebob. I feel a little sad.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2010