Diary of a Mixed State
Editor’s note: If you experience suicidal thoughts, the following post could be potentially triggering. You can contact the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741-741.
My eyes open. It’s 10 a.m. Nothing but darkness, with a slight shine breaking the edge of the black sheet blanketing the window. I shield my eyes with the bend inside my elbow. I’m awake. I’m alive. Another day I don’t know how to handle. I slide the shower lever. Water, extra hot, rains on my back. It burns. It feels good. It reminds me of my skin, of nerves, of feeling. I don’t want to get out and face the world. This is my sanctuary.
It’s 90 degrees out. I pop on my beanie because there’s no use for style today. I don’t eat breakfast. I slide into my car, start the engine, breathe deeply and talk the anxiety away. It stays.
Foot on the gas. Driving. I smile. I feel that instant rush of energy. Pedal to the floor. I climb: 50, 60, 70, 80, 90. Wait. What am I doing? I slow. I want new shoes. I buy new shoes. I want new jeans. I buy new jeans. The mall is my closet. Whatever I want I shall have. Credit card swipes. Swipes. Swipes. It’s a rush. I walk outside with a stride, a leap, a gulping laughter.
What did I just do? No money. No use. I am a failure. Who would ever want me? I don’t want me. I do nothing right. Fuck. You’re useless. You’re better off dead. Don’t you even dare wake up tomorrow.
Beer. It sloshes in the glass. I feel better. What was I even thinking? I’m fine! I’m basically invincible. I have to tell someone how great today is!
Text. Text. Text.
Ramble. Ramble. Ramble.
It’s been 10 minutes. No response. Why?
Because I’m loveless. Nothing. No one. Who cares?
I drive. No direction. Maybe the mountains? No. Maybe the city? No.
Circles, squares, parking lots. I need to drive. I need to get somewhere. Puff. It’s my eighth cigarette today. Feels good. Feels bad. I buy another pack.
Sunset. Beautiful. Calming. Exhausted.
Unsure what to feel, I slip into bed. TV. Another shower. I slowly fade.
I’m alive. I feel better. I’m stable.
It was my second mixed state, but I’m getting better.
And I know there’s hope.
There’s always hope.
There’s. Always. Hope.
If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or text “START” to 741-741.
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Unsplash photo via Angel Monsanto III.