Friday, November 21, 2014

Part 2

BOOM BOOM BOOM

I heard loud bangs on my overhead garage door. I looked over my right shoulder at the garage entrance door. I knew it was dead bolted. I didn't know or even really comprehend who then started to hit the large, wooden door. It had to be someone my parents called. BOOM! Someone was kicking at the door.  As I looked at the door with glazed eyes, I saw it happen. Each thud was louder than the last. CRACK! The door flew open and pieces of wood went flying. Cops. It was the police. The officer ran over to the car and tried opening my passenger door. It was locked. Immediately he drew his telescope police baton. As he cranked back his arm, about ready to break the car window to get me out, I panicked and tried to reach over and unlock the door. He stopped inches from the window. I braced for impact. He screamed at me "Unlock the door!" I complied. He opened the door, reached in, turned off my car and took my keys.

Before the police had arrived, I had actually calmed down. I was no longer crying but was trying to embrace my outcome. I remember feeling nauseated at first. Then my head was pounding. It was textbook symptoms of CO poisoning. As I sat there comfortably, thoughts of my son went through my head. I wished he would understand one day. Understand that I loved him dearly. But it didn't matter, I had failed. Then thoughts of my friends and of course my family surfaced. I would miss them. I was hoping that they would miss me too.  I  didn't know who even cared about me anymore. I was low. Pretty, pretty low.

The officer quickly came around to my door and grabbed me and helped me get out. It wasn't a "you're-under-arrest" type of grab, rather, a saving one. At this point, I lost control of my emotions again. The tears flowed freely. I could barely breathe. He lead me outside to the fresh air and had me sit down in front of my garage. I put my head in my hands and sobbed like a child. I ran my fingers through my red hair and couldn't believe what was happening. Every emotion was coursing through me.  What did I just do?  Why did I call or text? I should have kept to myself. I'm so pathetic crying here.  There were two other officers that were also there that I hadn't even noticed. I remember them trying to ask me questions and trying to get me to talk to them. I couldn't. It was too much. Where does my life go from here? Did it just get worse? I didn't think that was possible, but there I was, sobbing outside on the cold cement ground where the Cottonwood Heights police department had just saved my life. I tried thinking of what was going to happen next.  I couldn't even process it. It was too much. All of a sudden, all those feelings went away. I didn't care. It didn't matter. I just wanted to cry. That's all I could do. So I did.

A fire truck and ambulance also came racing to my house. There were sirens and lights everywhere.  I remember the paramedics trying to get oxygen on me. My thoughts were a blur though. " We are going to put this oxygen mask on you OK?" they talked to me like you would a toddler.   I didn't respond. It was too hard. I just let them work on me and do their thing. I then heard a familiar voice.  "Yeah, I'm his brother…"  I looked up. I knew it wasn't my brother, It was my best friend. He was the first one there. We had worked together everyday for the last two years but had known each other since 5th grade. I looked up at him. I caught his eye but had to look away and continue on in my miserable tears. I didn't want to be a failure in his eyes.  When I finally realized that I was going to be seeing more people that I knew, it made me feel worse. I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. I didn't want to answer any questions. I didn't want to put up with their glares or judgement.  It was so hard. I felt trapped. I wanted to get away but it felt as if I was strapped into a roller coaster and had to ride it. There was nothing I could do. I couldn't run away. Reality was coming like a freight train, and the brakes had been cut. Everyone was going to know my downfalls. Everyone was going to know. Everyone would see my secrets.

Before I knew it, I was on the ambulance in route to the hospital. I was on oxygen. and was upright in the stretcher. I still cried. I couldn't help myself. It was as if I was not in control. My body just weeped.  At times, I didn't even know why.  I finally started talking to the EMT and paramedic. I answered the standard protocol questions. Whats my name, date of birth, was I on any medications, etc. 


At the hospital, I got my own little room in the ER while the nurses and doctors did blood work and checked my vitals. I was finally trying to consciously compose myself. Trying to hold back the anxiety, pain and fear. They stationed a nurse outside my door with a little desk and chair to watch over me. Suicide watch. I thought to myself. They gave me a warm blanket to cover myself. and to try and offer some type of comfort I guess. I laid there for about 10 minuets then my nurse came in. "Your parents have been here ever since you arrived and are wanting to come back and see you. Would that be OK? You don't have to at all. Its completely up to you."  In the tiniest voice, I whimpered, "I just don't want them to be mad at me... I, I, cant take that." She smiled warmly and assured me "They wont, Ill make sure of it, Morgan. "  "OK, you can get them"

I remember my mothers face first. She had tears in her eyes and I could tell she was beyond worried. She came in and hugged me tightly and cried. I cried too of course. At this point, I didn't think I had any tears left in me, but somehow I did. She stood there, bed-side with her loving arms around me and just held me. I cried and cried into her shoulder and she wept into mine. At this moment, this exact moment, I knew that things would be OK. I didn't know how. I didn't know when. I just knew. My mothers love had just given me hope. It was the first time in months I had felt such a feeling.




Thursday, November 13, 2014

Part 1

I didn't plan on killing myself when I woke up that morning.

It was just another day to me. I had been separated for 9 months and officially divorced for 5. That summer, my normal nights and body schedule completely slipped into something way different than normal. I started to stay up later because my mind would race. I could never get comfortable on my $1,000 bed. I tried blaming my pillow top mattress at first. Who was I kidding? It was me. Something off inside me. Some internal mechanism not lining up and just not clicking right. That's when the dark thoughts started too. At first it was a thought here and there. Over a few months in the hot summer's heat, the thoughts became more and more regular. I no longer tried to think of something else. After awhile, I actually welcomed them.

"Its just too hard…" "How did it come to this?"  "No one has ever felt this"  " I feel so alone... so alone."

These are just a few of the preceding thoughts I had before the much more darker ones of how to actually end my life.   I mean, I didn't want to kill myself. That sounded gruesome to me, even messy.  I just wanted to stop existing. I wanted to cease being. I just didn't want to be here anymore. It was too hard. I didn't want to hurt anymore. The pain was just too much. Writing this now, it sounds so cliche.  But it was  honest feelings back then. I really, really felt that way.  It was impossible for me to see beyond the suffering. Impossible to think of anything positive.

I hid all of this. I didn't know who to talk to. My late night sobbing feeble attempted texts to the woman who had my heart were maybe the closest things to expressing my inner feelings. I remember talking to my best friend a couple times. But that's it. I didn't think anyone would ever come close to understanding my heartache. How could they? They never went through what I did. If I had told them, what gave them the right to even try to council me or offer me advice? It didn't make sense to me. No one was there for me. No one could be there for me. I didn't let them or even give them a chance.

 My MMA gym in North Salt Lake  was one place that truly had healing powers. The mats. The mats at my grappling gym are sacred. I can't even express how many times they saved me. Usually, I would feel like crap, show up to practice boxing and wrestling, sweat and bleed it out and feel great afterwards. I would be so worn out driving home that I had no time to think. No time alone with my unwelcome demons. I would get home, shower and collapse on my bed.

I got off work and hurried to my sanctuary with my gym bag. As I was pulling up in front of the training center, it happened. My heart started to race. My breathing got heavy.  A terrible sense of fear and panic came over me. Anxiety. A full blown panic attack was rearing its ugly head. "Pull yourself together Morgan!"  I said out loud in my Mercedes.  " Come on, Come on" I urged myself.

I jumped out of my car, grabbed my training gear and headed inside. Heart a little faster.  I quickly got changed and started warming up with my team. Coach Kiser had us do a quick warm up. Intense feeling of false reality.  Immediately after he had us pair up and start throwing each other combination-punches.

"Dammit" I said to myself. " Hey man, I got to go, I'm so sorry."  I quickly walked off the mat and started to changed. As I pulled on my hoody, Coach yelled " Morgan, you OK?" " Yeah I'm OK. I just got to go.".  Lies, lies, lies. I was crumbling. I felt crazy. I was breaking.

I jumped in my Benz and sped off. It was a 25 min drive from the gym to my home.  25 minutes of crying uncontrollably.  I don't know what happened. I just could not stop. Once it began there was no cure. Every thought of failure as a person filled my head. I wept and wept. When I finally thought I could pull it together, I cried harder. Pain. Regret. Sadness. It hurt so bad. "Why?"

As I pulled into my garage, I had hit rock bottom. I put the car in park and just sat there. A million thoughts went through my head. Then one thought seemed to just make sense to me. Close the garage door.  I pressed the overhead garage door button in my car and watched the door go down in my rear view mirror. I left the car running.  Was this it? Could this be the end of my pain? Was this my solution?  I remained there for about 30-40 minutes then mustered up the courage to say goodbye to her. It was a simple phone call. It lasted less than 20 seconds. I asked a question. "What would you say if this was the last time you talked to me?" "Stop Morgan, this isn't funny." "Goodbye Nat." Then she hung up. Not me, but her. I then text my parents goodbye and sobbed,  holding my phone with both hands. Garage door closed, engine running.

Friday, November 7, 2014

Simple reflections.



I want to preface this by saying that I am OK. This is a personal look into my mindset after my divorce.  I do not miss my ex wife as in I would want her back or something. She is actually engaged and I just reflected on some things today. I have dated since and have been in a couple relationships this year. I have been divorced for almost two years now. I am happier now than I have been in a long time. I will actually write about some of my darker moments in the future.  But I decided to re-visit some memories of how I felt or what I went through mentally.  This is to remember where I have been, what I have gone through, and where I am now. I have grown so much this last year emotionally. Just thought it would be healthy to reflect on some things. A great man once said " How can we truly understand who we are unless we know who we were and what we have the power to become? How can there be real identity without real history?" 

About a year ago I wrote this to a friend,

"You asked the other night what hurts me the most about my Ex. After thinking it through , it comes down to two things.
1. I really miss my best friend. It's hard thinking you can completely trust and confide in someone and then watch them completely forget about you, move on like nothing ever existed between the two of you. I miss my friend. Before marriage, there was a friendship. A deep friendship for years. I miss that connection. having someone to listen to me. Having someone to confide in me their tough days and  fears.
2. Watching her move  on and have a serious relationship so quickly makes me feel like I was so easy to get over and just be forgotten. Like I didn't mean anything. Like I wasn't worth remembering.   First it makes me feel like I wasn't good enough or just literally easy to forget.  Second, it makes me feel like there is something wrong with me as in I should be able to let go of her just as easily. Maybe I have a problem and I'm not normal cause I can't let go.

Those are what hurt the most "

I hope someone reading this will relate to these feelings. I know  I don't want to feel alone in my feelings. I want to know that what I feel is normal and other people experience these things. For anyone experiencing any of these emotions, just know this, its completely normal. And no, I am not alone in my feelings, and you are not alone in yours.

Since I wrote this, I am definitely not having such negative outlook on whats "wrong" with me. I feel so much better these days and have found a lot of joy in different aspects of life.
 
One of the things that really helps me now to know that I'm ok. Is knowing that I will find someone else who will make me happier than I was. I will find my best friend again. That excites me.

Growing up is a funny thing. Its not just this moment that happens, its just an accumulation of experiences and knowledge we discover.  I often find myself thinking  " I should have done that." or " I should have done this." I realize now the things I should have done or could have done differently, are just choices I will make in the future. I will be a little better here and there. Ill continue to grow. I will continue to have experiences that will help me. Im grateful for that. Im grateful for change. Im grateful for growth.  As hard as it has been "cutting back that currant bush" ,  I know it is worth it. And that my friends, really makes me happy.

-M




California Changes.