Drop me ’cause I can’t let go

Just when I thought life couldn’t get worse and that my mental health was at an all time fucking low this had to go and happen. I’ll start at the very beginning of everything this week so I don’t forget, I guess.

So, I’ve been noticing ticks. I’m getting twitchy. I’ve never been like this before. I’ve been driving ridiculously recklessly. I even backed up into something. I’ve almost gotten into an accident multiple times this week. The other day I was driving and for some reason I just slammed on the breaks. In the middle of a parking lot. I don’t understand why I did it. It just happened. My body did it. I have no recollection of why I did it, just a vague feeling that I did have a reason to do it at some point. It’s like my brain is just on autopilot. I’ve been increasingly suicidal. I still don’t think I’ll do anything but now I’m starting to worry myself. 

Everything is just getting really bad. Everyone I know has had bad, seriously life changing things, happening to them. I am no exception. The other day, Sunday (or maybe Monday), I drove to Niagara Falls to pick up my friend Dahli, who was going through some serious shit. On the way there, I got lost twice in a storm, speeding like hell (I caught myself going 70 in a 50 zone, I didn’t even notice.) Totally tweaking out. I finally got there and picked her up, let her vent during the car ride home. I was totally happy to do this for her but her negativity really exacerbated mine. I didn’t want to express myself to her though because I would be detracting from her experiences. I think that was the right decision. But, anyway, it all just kept building and building on my anxiety. As soon as I drop her off, I fucking back into a pole. All the while, this asshat drug dealer stares at me in his black SUV. I was so fucking embarrassed and so frustrated that I resisted the urge of having a mental breakdown and drove to the cemetery, with hopes that it would calm me down. Driving there all I could do was fucking scream at myself, how fucking stupid and dangerous I was. Torn by a death wish and not wanting to self destruct. I was too sketchy for the cemetery, I was too impressionable to be there. My mind started to wander about ghosts and zombies, generally things that don’t phase me in a cemetery at night, but I guess this was me at the brink of my breaking point. Instead I drove to the canal, not far from where I was. I hoped that maybe I could scream across it, hopefully something refreshing.

But, that’s not what happened. The water was calm and eerie. Two green lights blinked at me from across the embankment and I began to feel drawn to the water. I started to think about all of the people who have drowned themselves in the canal. I started to think about poetesses filling their pockets with stones. Putting their heads in ovens. I started to weigh the pros and cons of my suicide. I started to detach myself from my loved ones. Preparing myself for their loss. Then I pulled myself back to reality. Tried to reason with myself not to kill myself. But then, I started to wonder where I would put my suicide note. How would anyone find me? I wouldn’t want them to worry. What would I say? I stared at the bumper of my car for a while, fingering the scratches from my little accident. I told myself I needed to go before this escalated. So I sped off. 


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