You and I Endure That First Pain

Herman Finley
Jericho Brown

I didn't tell you that, in the end, he begged
For the end. Death like the bed after
The bedtime story. Death like a widening
Crack of light beneath the door.
He begged them to let him
Go so he could go. Said I want
To die. Then said kill me. Please.

You and I endure that first pain.
We just want to die. People with that
Other ultimately physical agony say
Kill me and know they won't discuss it
In therapy. Kill me. I'm thinking
Of him today because I want to die
And I am ashamed to say it. My thinking

Is red and sticky. Rather than kill me,
I'd like you to listen as I live
In a perpetual whine. Can't I still be
Somebody's baby? Say yes for yourself.
Call me sometime. Every day I wish to die,
Remind me how he insisted.
Kill me. And I'll live again.

How many times did I think, did I say, did I scream, "I want to die! This is too much!" Over and over and over again.

I thought about cutting. I thought about killing myself. Once in a while, I did hurt myself - I used rubber bands as a cutting substitute until I bled, I slapped my cheeks until they stung, I hit my thigh with a wooden spoon until I bruised, I punched walls until my knuckles swelled. More than once I even asked Drew to slap me, to punch me, to do something to hurt me physically as much as he had hurt me mentally. (Which of course he didn't. Sometimes he would just collapse into himself, hang his head. Other times he would hold me, apologizing.)

But, as Brown notes, I never said, "Kill me." In part because I was concentrating and externalizing my internal pain. In part because I knew I would be "discuss[ing] it / In therapy." In part because I was actually trying to convey to Drew how deep my pain ran, even though I simultaneously felt melodramatic and "ashamed to say it." But still I wanted him "to listen as I live[d] / In a perpetual whine." I wanted to "still be / Somebody's baby," protected and comforted, instead of the adult who was responsible for caring for herself.

You and I endure that first pain - that wanting to die, that wanting a break from the unending agony. And the pain is so great, the need to express it physically can be so strong, that we might hurt ourselves. But there is a crucial difference between wanting to die and wanting to be killed. The former might be a coping mechanism, a distraction, a message - the latter is another kind of desperation.

If, in the moment we most want to die, we can recognize that difference, it can help us want to live.