wake-up call

This past May I was in Europe. I spent a week alone in Amsterdam - an emotionally restorative retreat you could say - then had a layover in Budapest for a night on my way back to Tel Aviv.

I ended up being an un-recognizing, unwilling witness to a suicide on the Liberty Bridge






















Here's what I wrote immediately afterward, in an unsent letter to my favorite subject of apostrophe at the time:

10:30pm, sat may 22 2010, budapest

So I get to this hostel in budapest, it's lovely, I feel like cooking so I get stuff and make shakshuka, I think its the worst I've ever made but I make a huge one and like 8 people eat and enjoy it, then I take some pictures of the place before the sun goes down, take a shower, go out for my walk. Pumped up, walk in the direction the super sweet 20 year old darling hostel hostess directed me in, realize where i am, listening to lady gaga yay life, I get to the big fancy bridge, I see a bunch of police lights and lots of crowds, the bridge is lit up very theatrically and at first i thought, oh, wonder if there's some event (as I left the hostel I'd heard fireworks), not less than five minutes after I left the hostel I've arrived to the police tape, headphones in, willingly oblivious to the crowds, going over there basically to see how i can get down to walk along the river, I have a green joint to smoke, then I see there is a person up there. All the way way way at the top of it someone is hugging a little bronze wing, at least that's how I remember it, I look and think at first it's a man but then wonder if it's a woman, I wonder if he's a performer or she's a schizophrenic, now I see it's a he, there is a rescue crew right next to him, they must be talking but i hear nothing. the man hugging the wing throws some things in some directions, small things, they looked small from a distance. Then he lights himself on fire, again I wonder if he's a performer, I think of my friend Anna and her fireplay, then I see he is not performing. He has lit himself on fire because he wants to die and he wants all of us to watch and to show everyone his pain and make everyone feel pain. I turned my music off either right before or right after, must have been right before because I heard the deep moans of old women and soft cries of young girls. The crew on the crane come closer, they spray him with something, water or a fire extinguisher, the man stops embracing the wing and rises up, the fire had died down but now in the wind blazes again up his back and arms and legs and chest, it's clear he's going to jump, all kinds of unfamiliar sounds escape from the deep among those who didn't flee when he lit himself on fire, he jumps, I can't see where he lands but I hear it, the women cry, the men comfort them, optimistic impulse leads me to walk down to where i can see the water, and i wait watching for a few seconds for him to come up, until I see above on the bridge, all the emergency workers have gathered, this is where he'd actually hit, he never reached the water, children were there

***

If you have a seriously strong tolerance for trauma, there are two videos of this on youtube. The first is more bearable to watch, and was taken from a greater distance and a much different angle than the one from which I witnessed the event: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oFBoFLC4CYk

The second I DO NOT RECOMMEND watching at all if you're ever sensitive to such things. It was taken from where I was standing, but at a long zoom, beyond what any of us on the ground could see at the time: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m4vaPQxWNB0

***

And more apostrophe from the next day:

I felt so detached and it was like a really exaggerated, obvious, undeniable manifestation of my usual fantasy-world existence and almost-pathological optimism. A basic inability to see things going in a bad direction, even when that direction is perfectly clear to my rational mind. A slowness to comprehend my surroundings. The remarkable absurdity of the power of denial.

***

And from a couple days later:

As I learned on the extreme side with what I saw in Budapest, I will keep looking for the optimistic outcome long after others have declared doom. This is somewhat scary to realize about myself but, honestly I really see it as a good thing. It makes me a happier person, it has meant some excellent opportunities, it really has benefited me in my life.

Most other people who get told when they are 9 years old that they could have a heart condition, and if their heartbeat goes above normal rate they could suddenly die - most other people who experience this would not be able to see past it. But with this crazy optimistic view of mine - I instinctively "knew" that the doctors were wrong and just waited out the months until the test results came back saying what I already knew. I knew I was going to live, I definitely didn't see myself dying.

I was so sure that I was "fine" that I would escape at recess - there was a hole in the fence of the school yard and from there you could walk down to the woods. And I would take off the Holter monitor I wore, which was organized to set off a loud alarm if my heart rate went top high above normal. And then I would break out into a fucking sprint, and my heart would practically beat out of my chest, and I wouldn't be able to breathe, but I'd be so fucking alive and so glad to be in the woods and to be alone and sweaty and everything, and I would take off my shoes and socks and put my hot swollen feet in the cool creek, and put my Holter monitor back on, and go back through the fence to the schoolyard in time for the bell.

I don't know what kind of life I would have, if I let all the medical shit and other obstacles in my life get in the way of my pursuit of something better. First I had to have faith above reason that I was going to continue living, after that everything is easy.