Lately, I've been thinking a lot about life and death. To say I've been thinking is actually a massive understatement, I'm as obsessive as water is wet. I've been obsessing about life, death, and everything in between. There's a lot I can't plan or decide about my life at the moment- such is the nature of being detained, even if it is onto a mental health unit and not like I've done anything to have put me into jail. I don't get to choose very much of what I do, and I'm living in an environment that's pretty damn controlled and structured by the powers that be. I tell you, it's pretty funny the things that you miss when you're in this kind of situation, things you'd not even think of- sometimes I just fancy nipping out for some emergency M&Ms, or having a cheeky vodka at the end of a long day or, God, I don't know, Googling something before 7pm, the earliest time I'm allowed online of a weekday.
I've had quite a dark week or two, deciding, in a way, that death is the only thing I can choose and control. But it's not. I was wrong. I can choose death, or I can choose life. Yes, I can take my newly earned unescorted leave and use that on yet another overdose, or I can take my unescorted leave and just enjoy the fact that I've earned, and deserve, a few hours without anybody checking up on me- another thing you really do miss, but take for granted completely when you're not in this position. I can choose to starve and vomit, or I can choose to look after my body and use all the energy I put into hating myself into loving myself. I can choose to plan the one moment of death, or to plan the many, many moments of the life that's just waiting for me to pour myself into. I'm ill, yes, but I don't need to be terminal.
I choose life. I don't think death can ever be as beautiful as I'm so sure life can be. My life, my past, hasn't shown me the beauty that I'm certain is there, for my taking, but that just means that I'll reach that bit further, swim that much harder against the current, because I've never had, nor do I believe in, mediocrity, as a way of life. I have had ugly, and now it's time for beauty, no in-betweens. My life, right now, isn't my own, but neither would my death be; there's no freedom, the thing I crave most, in death, just a finality that's even greater than the one I feel right now. My current hospitalisation, and I've been in hospital solidly now for over 6 months, seems never ending, because nobody can give me a time-frame, just that I'm almost certainly going to be here until at least next year. But what is death? Death is for eternity, whereas this won't even be a life-sentence. Emergency M&Ms, cheeky vodkas and Google are not waiting for me below the ground.
Choosing life is really liberating, and a bit scary in its vastness, like diving into the sea. It's not as, well, neat as death, if you get me; it's wider and vaguer and messier, but that's freedom, and I reckon it's ok to fear it when I've existed in such a tightly controlled environment- literal and mental. Whenever the thoughts come of things I could do to myself, I try all I can to work through, in my head, if they're compatible with the choice of life. A lot of the time, they're really not. It's not easy and it's not like mental illness and suicide ideation are fixed purely through positivity, but it's just the choice- I choose now not to die by my own hand, whether directly or indirectly; through overdose or eating disorder related disaster. Generally, I don't think there can be much point in doing much of anything until life has been chosen; when death is an ever-present option, motivation for life is all but impossible to muster. Since the choice to live was realised, for me, the world opened up a touch and things have taken on a little more meaning. I can't say life is suddenly sweet, but now at least I know that making it sweet is a possibility. Life is fleeting- it's a cliche, but it's true- and I'm sure there'll be plenty of time for death when I have truly lived. I want my life to be beautiful, exciting and full of love and cheeky vodkas, and you can bet all your glorious brain on the fact that that's what I'm going to make it.