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DaRk AnGel : Why Home : February 2006 : Serena - Part one Serena - Part one The vet was here Monday. And it was further discovered that Destiny has a mass in her throat. He did a needle biopsy on it, but I already knew. The results were verified yesterday. Then yesterday evening, Jezebel my other old girl began having mild seizures. And they have continued off and on ever since. So the vet was here today. Neither are showing any signs of tremendous pain. In fact he put Destiny on a new arthritis medicine and she sleeps more than ever, but is also moving around more than she has in a good while. Jezebel is taking valium and it is slowing down the seizures. I am gradually increasing the dosages and the hopes are they will stop. All I can say is the time we have left together is precious to me. The length is anyone's guess. Death is the one event that makes all living things equal. Plants, animals, man, are all going to die. And the rich die as do the poor. And in the end, one way or another all is returned to the earth. I have never feared death. I have faith that the next plane of living is one that will be better than this. As a child I can remember at seven trying to figure out how to die. When my first dog was brutally kicked to death, I wanted nothing more than to join her. At seven she was the first living thing to openly give me love and affection. She paid for that with her life. When she was gone, it was the first time I ever wanted to kill someone else. Had I been as big as I am now, or even then - if I had access to a gun, I would have killed him. In April of 1999 my life was a blur. I had had one surgery, was on a walker, and I was struggling to continue a normal life. I went to work each day, and went through the motions. Pain was out of control. I was at that time being given loretab and vicadin. They did not dent the pain I was in. When the day was over I would get into my truck and head to a bar. There I would play video poker and get drunk. Booze helped with the pain. Booze helped with the roommates I had. What at one time had been a place I loved and liked being in was now a place to sleep and take a bath. I hated to be in these walls. The only joy I had back then was winning at the video poker machines. And to do that one has to lose. And I was losing more than what I had. I was self destructing in many many ways. My life was so totally out of control. Each day it got harder and harder to go through the motions. I could not always control my legs when trying to drive and had several minor accidents because of the spasms. At work, I was suffering from an invisible disease. People were sure I was faking it. The more I tried to regain my life, the further it slipped away. I began to understand how lepers felt. I was shunned and in some instances ridiculed. "Pain? Show me the wounds!" "But you had surgery to fix that" Then laughter as they walked away. At work, the smokers were confined to one room. And it was room number 666. I always found humor in that and I suspected it was more than coincidence that we were assigned to that room. There were many people in that building and many that I knew by site only. One day as I was sitting alone, a woman named Barbara approached my table. I knew her name, but little else. She was a stranger for all intent and purposes. She asked if she could sit with me and I said yes. As soon as she sat down she looked across the table and looked into my eyes, and asked "do you ever think of suicide?" I nervously told her no, of course not, never. I lied. She said that the reason she asked is that her mother had suffered from neck and back problems and in the end took her own life. That shook me up. I did not want anyone to know that I even broached that subject. I wondered the reason for that meeting. I believe everything has a reason, and is one thing I have yet to see the reason for. I would play video poker for hours on end. And when I won, everybody got paid. Every time I hit a 500 dollar hand I would give everyone working $10. Because of that I was soon to know all of the people that worked in that restaurant and bar. One of those people was a beautiful blonde haired child named Serena. Her eyes unnerved me. They were translucent blue eyes, and I always thought she could see into me. I have never let many close. I had to keep reminding myself that she was a child, not spiritually oriented and not a person of much depth. She was a typical teenager. Yet those eyes I can still picture. She was nearing the end of her high school, and was just barely legal enough to serve drinks. She was 18. If it was slow the people working that smoked came into the video poker room to smoke. And Serena came in just to hang out. She was not a smoker. I asked her why she sat and watched me play when she could be out talking to the others all of whom were closer to her age. She would just shrug her shoulders and say "I dunno". I didn't know any of them well. She was naïve, young, fresh, on the verge of blooming into a beautiful woman. Serena was always kind to me. Polite and friendly. She was still a stranger in so many ways but she was a friend. I knew so little of her. Just the little she shared about her hopes and dreams and boy troubles. Typical stuff for a girl of her age. Suicide was closing in. I was so distraught over my pain. A man usually values his worth by how good a job he has and does. A man is reared to be the provider and the protector. It was coming to the point where I could no longer work. I knew it and I was extremely depressed about it. Added to that, the people that lived with me were becoming a real problem. And I was running out of money to play Video poker and drink on. I thought of suicide every day. Death had to be better than anything else I had ahead of me. I knew it was going to be the end for me, but I did not know exactly when. Sunday April 9, 2000 I was outside the restaurant when it opened at 2:00pm. I had to win. If not this would be the last day I could gambol. There was no where else to get money from. I never hit it big that day. I played until 10:00 before I was busted out. I got in my truck and drove home. I knew what I had to do. And I did not like it. I sat at my computer and wrote a letter. To three of my doctors and to my boss. It simply stated that I could not do it anymore. Work was too painful. The worst pain I would have would be from sitting all day. And that is what I had to do as a computer person. Also I was becoming more and more dangerous on the road. I asked all to support me in a disability claim. I sat there as the letter faxed off. I printed a copy and went into the living room. I was so despondent over having to give up to many things. Giving up to the pain. Giving up my job. Giving up gamboling. I crumpled up that copy and stuffed it in a drawer in the coffee table. The acceptance I had always wanted from my father was gotten when I became someone who made more a year than he ever did. In the back of my mind this played on me. I would have to return to being a failure in his eyes, and someone who he had no respect for. I was feeling like a failure. The gamboling addiction and alcohol consumption was not helping my world at all. Now the addiction had won. I was a failure. I had list all my money, and owed tens of thousands that I could not pay if I did not work. I grabbed a bottle of gin and the 300 Phenobarbital tablets I had. ( my roommates claim the bottle had closer to 500). I sat and took five pills at a time and then a swig of gin. About halfway through the pills, I started feeling like I was going to vomit. I grabbed some bread and ate it. Then I continued on until both bottles were empty. I then went into the bedroom and laid down. I called the dogs and they laid in the bed with me. Something odd happened when I started taking the gin and the pills. One the decision was made, and the act was going to happen, I reached a peaceful calm within. I have never before or since been at such a place of contentment. What was happening, is what was supposed to happen. I remember nothing else after laying down on the bed with the dogs. To be continued...
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