Carson Zi

I slammed the needle into my arm, filled with as much heroin as I was able to dissolve, and I pushed the plunger.  I tasted the heroin in the back of my throat and then felt the familiar rush of warmth hit the back of my neck as my whole body relaxed into a puddle of sweating flesh.   I laid down, eyes filled with tears, hoping that I was closing them for the last time. 

When I woke up I was in the hospital, nauseous as fuck, strapped to a gurney and completely horrified at the fact I was still alive.  The reality of the moment punched me in the gut so hard that I began to sob uncontrollably, and unabashedly.  I sobbed for 3 days straight.  I did not eat, I did not sleep, I did not shit or piss, and I told every counselor that walked in the door to get bent.  I told them that they should just let me leave because there was nothing they could do to stop me… I would commit suicide at the first opportunity, whether I was inside these walls or not.

But after three days of sobbing,something broke inside me and I was graced with my first experience of “inner silence.”  This was a very abrupt shift from torture to bliss, and I’m always at a loss for words when trying to describe the transition.  In essence, the whole inner monologue of how tortured and unfairly treated I was completely ceased and I was literally unable to find these or ANY thoughts at all. My mind went completely silent, yet I was still conscious and aware.  In this experience there was no ability to identify with anything I had ever believed myself to be. The concepts related to being human were gone, the concepts (and experience) of suffering were gone, the concepts of time and space were gone, the concepts of entitlement were gone, all ability to speak or comprehend language was gone, and instead I was left in a state of radiant, silent awareness… a being-ness that could only be poetically described as “pure bliss consciousness.” 

After about an hour of abiding in this “space” the concepts and thoughts began to slowly come back.  The first thought I remember having was; “WOW.” And then I’m quite sure I spent at least another hour just reveling in the afterglow while trying to fit the experience into some sort of a verbal framework.  After coming back to a point where I could begin to think thoughts about what had just been experienced, I vowed to dedicate the rest of my life to finding a way to perpetually experience what I had coined “inner peace.”  I felt that Life had given me a second chance and there was no way I was going to waste it.