September is National Suicide Prevention Month

Out of the Blue

 By C. L. Collar

      

        The dismal blue light slowly crept with icy fingers across the room. I peeked tentatively out from underneath the safety of my blanket. I preferred the darkness. I preferred to be left alone. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to eat anything and I really didn’t want to feel anything at all.

            “Go away,” I say. “Leave me alone. I don’t want any company! I don’t want anything! Just leave me alone!”

I jerk the blanket back over my head as fresh tears spilled down my face. This is my safe place. Here I can sleep, dream away my pain and wander back to the happy times. I want to stay here.

The blue fog quietly slips under the cover causing a muted light in my shelter.

“I said I want to be alone! Who are you and what do you want?” I yell.

“I have come because you called for me. You pleaded for my aid. You wanted me to be with you in your time of pain. When I am requested I cannot resist. I must appear. My name is Despair.”

“You are mistaken. I did not ask you to come. I did not ask anyone to come! I just want to be left alone!”

“You asked me with every tear you dropped, with every unkind word you said, with every day you hid in your shelter and I might add it is a very nice shelter. We can stay in here and be safe from the outside world forever. We don’t need them. We have each other.”

“I, I guess you can stay then, if you’re not going to try to make me feel better. I don’t want to feel better. I don’t want to feel anything at all.”

“I know. That is why I am here. I will keep the others away. Now rest.”

I drift away …

I am walking in a lovely field of spring grass. The fresh smell of sage filters into my lungs teasing a thought into my muddled mind, sage, cleansing, new beginnings, and wisdom. A smile tugs at my lips, but no I do not want to smile!  I banish the thought and go back to the dark place and the blue light.

A delicate warm glow, filters through the dark accompanied by the scent of jasmine, jasmine and frankincense. Again, feelings slowly drift back into my body, calm, sweet songs of joy on angel’s voices. I turn toward the light.

“Don’t go!” Despair shouts. “It’s a trick! They are trying to get in!” his voice calms. “Come back to me. I will keep them away.”

I begin to see a form in the light. I gasp. It is child, a young girl. She is sitting in a cedar rocking chair. Lavender flowers are spread on her hearth as she hums a peaceful memory, one of my memories. Cedar drives out negative energy; brings in good influences. Lavender restores balance, creates a peaceful atmosphere and attracts loving energy. What is she doing here?

I cautiously approach the child. She has a needle strung with glimmering silver thread. Meticulously she places tiny stitches into the red glow in her lap.

            “Child, why are you here?” I ask.

            “I have been sent to you by someone who holds you dear.”

            “I don’t understand,” I say as I shake my head. “Who are you and why are you here? What are you doing in my shelter?”

            “ I am mending something that has been deeply damaged. It is strong, but also delicate. It has a large tear that requires my special stitch. Later, my sister will come and check on my work and make it stronger, but for now I must apply my stitch.

It is the only way to start the healing process. You can join me while work.”

            Another cedar rocking chair appears, placed cozily by the fire.

            “Don’t sit with her!” I hear the voice of Despair in the distance. “Come back to me. She will only bring you pain and sorrow. I am the one you need, not her!”

            I turn toward his voice, seeing the faint blue light I choke back the tears that are just a trickle away. Yes, I must go back. I cannot face the pain, the sorrow. I have to hide!

As I turn to flee lavender drifts into my scenes driving my fears away.

            “Please sit and rest. I am almost done. You will want this when I am finished.”

            I move toward the chair. A soft cushion appears as dove feathers float onto the floor. Again she sings a memory, white feathers; a message from my angles. I sit. I rock. Jasmine, cedar, frankincense, lavender; caress my soul.  I glance back to where Despair waits for me. All I see is a insignificant speck of blue.

            “Let him go.” She says. “He is not important. He was sent to do you harm.”

            “I know. I know who he is and I know who sent him, but I still don’t know who you are.”

            The child looks up from her lap. She holds her sewing up to the light to examine her work.

“It is done.”

            I look at the object she has worked so diligently on. It is a glowing red heart and directly in the middle a large silver patch with perfect tiny stitches holding it in place.

She hands it to me.

            “This belongs to you. My name is Hope. I have begun the healing and my sister, Love, will now come and strengthen my work. You must let her in for your heart to continue to heal. Your family, your friends, your angles and God all come with her. The healing process will need one more thing, my brother, Time. The patch is strong, but if not nurtured by my sister and brother it will not heal. I also want you to remember that I, Hope, will always be with you.”

            I wake to the beautiful sunshine filling my room. I smell jasmine and lavender. I turn to see a silver vase filled with the fragrant flowers. The scent of frankincense and sage mingles with it as a swirl of smoke from an incense burner drifts into the air. As I stir from under my shelter I see a cedar rocking chair beside my bed and in it my loving husband. He is holding my bible with a small white feather marking a page. I look at his his face, strained, even in his slumber. As his eyes slowly open I hear his beautiful loving voice.

            “Hi there. I’m glad you’re back,” he says reaching for my hand.

            “Thank you," I say taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you for being here for me."