Mental Breakdown #298

Another bad day in the life. About every six months, the slurry of anxiety and depression that grows like a fungus in my brain has to be bled out in a day of pure self-destruction. It's been a long time since I cut myself with a razor and I forgot how much better they are to use then kitchen knives. They separate the skin in these thread-like lines and the flesh opens to reveal a gorgeous pink undertow. And the feeling of indulgence and the rush of adrenaline flood my brain and drown the darkness. I tried to dig a nice swirl into my upper arm but I couldn't get it to curve properly so I gave up. The marks were starting to look ugly and the blood was making a mess. Knives just leave dark little dents and holes that don't bleed the way they should. So at least I know for next time.

I have to talk about this out loud because I have to make it feel okay. It's okay because it makes me feel something when I'm feeling empty and it's better than suicide. I don't see what makes it so bad and I don't want help for it. Sometimes it's all I have to feel alive. When there's no love, or music, or sunlight to soothe m psyche. Most of all I wish I could take some time away from my mind but it's impossible. I need a vacation from Earth but I wouldn't come back and that isn't satisfying either. 

This is how I spent my Saturday. I got a haircut and the woman asked what I was doing tonight and I stuttered and tried to think of any thing to say but I just told her "nothing, tonight." I realized I really wished I had more friends. To go to bars with. I wish I had the gall to just go home with some guy and not feel lonely for a night but I know that won't make me happy either. I had an anxiety attack from the paranoia that someone was following me when I took a walk. What the fuck? I didn't eat anything until 9pm. I thought being literally empty might fill me with any other feeling. Pain, aching, focus, determination. I fantasized about looping a belt together and tying the end to the bar in my closet. The tightness of the cinching felt fantastic before I pulled my hands away from my throat and swallowed a dry cloud of air. 

I feel somewhat better now. As best as I can. I'm really scared that I'm wasting my youth. You're supposed to spend your twenties discovering love and sex, making friends, chasing your dreams, and taking pictures. But so for I've spent them alone; cutting, starving, and wishing I were dead.

Move white girls like there's coke up my ass crack.

I don't "experiment" with drugs. I'm not a fucking lab rat. I research as much as I can about a variety of substances out of pure interest and should the occasion arise when I get to try something new, I won't end up dying. This is where most people go wrong, and many people die. Drugs on their own are not deadly. Misinformation, conservatism and being a stupid human are what make them so.

I watch Drugs Inc because I like to see how different drugs are made, but overall the show is pretty much a farce. I was watching the ecstasy episode with my dad when the show starting talking about comedowns. My dad tells me about his friend who did ecstasy and said he was depressed for days after taking it. I nodded but in my head, I thought "you have no fucking idea..."

I don't do pressed pills. Ever. If in this wake of people dying from dirty E pills, you still find the necessity to do them, I hope your funeral is at least decent. Don't be a lab rat.

I don't do mushrooms, acid or ketamine. I probably never will. I feel like I'm always on the verge of ending my life and I fear if I lose even the slightest grip on my self, I'll jump the bridge. So I don't put things in my body that might drive my mind down that road.

I thought I might have become allergic to alcohol recently because I was throwing up every time I drank. Then I realized it was because I was binge drinking every time I drank. Now I pay a little more attention because I don't want my liver to hate me.

In the end, I think it's fine to try drugs if you want to. I think laws should be changed and drugs should be regulated. But that time is far to come. What we need now is people to smarten up and stop experimenting. Stigma needs to die. I might try coke or heroin one day but not before I know what's safe to do. And if you think that might be fucked, then you haven't listened to anything I've said. I'm not a lab rat, but I'm going to push my brain and my body as far as I can in my time on earth.