Well, I'm trying to get back on the right meds, but for right now I decided to go see a band I haven't seen in 4 years and now the seven of them are sleeping in my living room. Good night. Check out BUXTON
The last couple of weeks have been hard. I can't stop crying. I can't stop wanting to just end it all.
After work today I'm going to get in my car and keep driving. I think I might stay somewhere in Arkansas for a little while. I just can't live this monotonous life anymore. I can't. I'm going to end up killing myself if I have to stay home one more night with a bottle cheap whiskey in one hand and sleeping medication in the other. I need to escape. I'm writing this in case I'm not picking up my phone. I'm writing this in case something happens. I'm writing this because I just can't take it anymore.
Over the past couple of years I've been part of a group of friends just dubbed "The film kids". I worked with them all hours of the day, created projects with them and had amazing times and laughs. One of the film kids was shot and killed while trying to save his brother when their house got raided by some thugs trying to steal some drugs from his brother. I didn't know him that well, but we worked with each other and shared laughs and what not. I said a eulogy at his funeral on behalf of his friends because no one else could. I made hundreds of buttons with his face on them and we all still wear them.
I will become this friend any year now. I am completely astounded that I am still alive at the moment. I may even make it to 25. But I will become the next Charles. I am going to be the friend that years from now people are going to look back on and say "Damn, Jill was fucking hilarious and a great friend, but so depressed." I am depressed. This is an illness, I know that. Everytime I go through one of my "episodes" I want to run my car into a tree. I never want to leave my bed. I cry all the time. I cry at work. I hyperventilate at Roller Derby Practice.
I am seeing a psychiatrist, I am on meds (that do need to be adjusted), but I can't do this anymore.
My best friend in the world/roommate has been avoiding me for 3 days. I finally went into her room and asked her if she was mad at me. She just responded "I just needed a break from you for a while". This was after I had a panic attack at Derby (that she joined me for) and sped home after getting horribly angry at myself when we stopped at McDonald's because she was hungry. After they messed up my order it was like this giant neon sign of "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? YOU ARE TRYING TO LOSE WEIGHT. DON'T EAT THE FUCKING FOOD" And after I sped home (which I believe scared the shit out of her) I left the food on the counter, she put it in the fridge and the next day I threw it away.
I'm going to kill myself. I know it. I won't be slitting my wrists, I'm not going to use a gun. But some day soon I am going to be so negligent and out of self worth that I am going to kill myself.
Now,my only problem with this is that when I'm not hyperventilating and crying hysterically I am happy. I love life. I look back at the past few days and pity this other Jill I become.
I just don't know how much longer I can put this suicidal Jill at Bay. Every time it gets harder and harder. Meds don't work. I take so much klonopin I can't believe my kidneys haven't shut down.
I. I just don't know anymore. I can't do this anymore. Please. Can someone help me?
I can't stand living like this anymore. I can't. I can't even explain it. I can't stop crying. Can't stop having panic attacks. I'm trying. I swear to god I'm trying. On meds again, new therapist. working out with the Roller Derby chicks. Haven't been late to work in a long time. I just can't. I can't function. This isn't normal. and I know that doesn't matter. But it makes waking up in the morning so hard. So hard. I just want everything to stop. I want to restart. I need a do over. Please. Just. Please. One do over.
So, I was going to call you, but it would've been 3am your time and it's a Sunday morning so that would probably cause some suspicion if not slight annoyance.
Let me tell you off the bat that I'm sorry if I'm being too heavy or anything, it's just your probably one of the most straightforward people I know who won't just try and placate me or drift the subject.
This is the first letter I've written in a really long time, I don't really know why that is. I feel like I've gotten. Well, for lack of a better word dumber. It's like in the past two years I had some kind of brain trauma or psychological breakdown that has repressed me mentally. I mean, I know I've always been 'a couple years back'. I pretty much still consider myself intellectually barely out of high school. And. That's not bad, I know where I stand, doesn't matter.
I feel like I've hit that point already where I look at my life and realize that it's not going to be something special.
And, I've always known that. never wanted to be famous or anything. Always knew there was nothing I could create that no one else hadn't done a million times before. And I looked forward to a life where I could enjoy the little things. Maybe fall in love with a guy, get a cute apartment, couple of cats. drink coffee on a multi-colored couch. I think I'm just creating life expectancies that I've seen in movies.
It was only a couple of years ago when I realized that parents weren't some type of evolution that humans went through. That, just like I had just gone through a roller coaster of adolescence and hormones and ended up a 20 year old, there was going to be some metamorphosis from young adult to Adult.
Adults/Parents/40-somethings and up.... they are us. We don't know what we're doing? They don't know that they are fucking doing. They live their lives one day at a time with as much unexpected bullshit as us, as well. It's like, I would get hurt. Mom knows what to do! Dad can solve any problem!
What did she do the first time her baby got cut? What did she do when her kid was throwing up everywhere?
How did she feel? Was she terrified every time?
Was she trying with everything in here not to scream "WHAT DO I DO?!?" so she didn't scare the rest of us?
Where was that transition? Somewhere between falling in love and having a kid? I couldn't do that now, and I can't see myself doing in 10+ years.
Maybe that means I really don't want to have kids. Maybe it just means that I'm such a selfish person that there would be no way in Hell for me to be able to give any of my time, much less my life for another human being?
Then what am I doing here?
Why did I go to college? Why did I graduate with a Film degree?
I have a BFA and $200 to my name. I have a bill from my four years that I've been ignoring, hoping it will fucking disappear. I moved to Lousiana, which I didn't know could be even worse than East Texas.
I want to get out of the south. Actually, I want to get out of the fucking country.
I'd like to say that I think that would solve all my problems, but I guarantee as soon as I set foot across the ocean I'll have another crap load of things to blame my shitty life on.
I just don't know what to do to make myself happy, cause the little things just aren't cutting it anymore.