I just got done crying. I started off listening to Vedo’s Mood Swings album all the way to Cardi B’s answering machine message to Summer Walker on the track titled Bitter. I put my headphones in and turned the music up so loud because I didn’t want to hear anything else at all. No outside noise. Until I remembered that I actually don’t want to go deaf from listening to loud music which I now believe is possible since I am the reason my vision is actually bad and I’m responsible for a few other self-mutilations. But this is not about that.
Before drowning out the noise with music I was fine. I woke up this morning and had an idea, so I grabbed my computer and started writing for my business blog. And I actually wrote 1716 words though I didn’t know where it was going or if I was saying what I actually meant but before I could even begin to figure it out my emotions were ignited. This anger that I carry is really going to bury me alive I realized as I listened to Coco Jones sing so beautifully. So, while I’m not sure where I was going with this morning's entry, maybe this is what I was meant to write all along. What it was meant to be.
It’s killing me.
And maybe I’ll change the title but as I turned the music down a few notches to a point where I still couldn’t hear anything else besides myself, I reviewed my life quickly. I’m deep breathing now because what I am about to say is not going to be pretty. How worse can it get? I’m trying to figure out how to say it without thinking I’m crazy. Because I genuinely don’t believe that I am but then as I think about it maybe I am wrong. I’m being dragged down too which was my worst fear all along. So let me just say it.
I’ve worked very hard time and time again to get away, to give myself space, trying to heal without even really knowing what that means for me. But that is the point. I believe I am supposed to take the time to figure it out. It’s been my dream since I was little, and I can’t explain everything, but I always knew I had to get out. Problem is I never knew how. I got good grades. That ain’t work. I finished high school. That ain’t work. I went and completed college x 3. That ain’t work so now I’m left with all of the debt of just trying to get to a place where I can breathe. And now I’m back. Square one. Back at the start. Back to the place and the people that I’m trying to get far from.
It’s killing me.
No literally. Don’t judge what I’m about to say and I may be the only person to ever feel this way but if so, that’s okay. At Least I can die knowing that I said something. I… I would always rather die than go back. That’s the truth so I guess I can get clearer about that. In Fall of 2016, my last semester of college. I started off doing so good. The beloved summer 16 is when I had worked so hard, waking up at 3-4am in the morning to go work, and getting back at like 5pm maybe. I don’t remember that much but the details don’t matter. I got myself my own car. Mine. With my own money. This last semester was supposed to be great. Like I was good at school, so it wasn’t going to be hard but along the way I started freaking out. So much so that I even went to the counselors at the school to say hey, I’m not okay. And it was a white man who told me that I was working too hard at my job and stressed about my schoolwork, it being my last semester and all with the final projects, etc. I tried to explain it without going too far but he still didn’t understand so I was just like okay and went on. Then he showed up at my Psych class a little while later and I was like whatever. That’s a joke. School is not hard. It’s not the classes, it’s not the work. I can’t figure out what it is but I felt so tired so I quit my job that I said I would never quit now knowing I had this car. The body that I had worked so hard for the previous semester I ruined by overeating trying to feel or fill something. I was now once again sharing a double bed dorm and me and my roommate both didn’t like going outside but I needed to be alone so that’s hard. Something is wrong. And when I realized my looming fate, I started scrambling and trying to find a job or career like I was supposed to which was the whole point of being in college, but I was just too late. And I didn’t realize what was wrong all along until I went home.
So, it’s Spring of 2017 I believe but by this time things have become blurry. I graduated college. Yay. So exciting. Now I’m back home in the hood and not for my lack of trying. I was just too late. I was so busy trying to get through I didn’t even process what was really at stake. I mean I kind of knew which is why I started scrambling but again I was too late. I’m at “home”.
AND TRIGGER WARNING.
STOP HERE.
STOP READING IF YOU’RE NOT ABLE TO DEAL WITH WHAT I’M ABOUT TO SAY!!!!
I’m at home and I’m miserable like I know this can’t be my fate. I’m so tired. I can’t make whatever this pain is stop. I can’t make it go away. I feel like a failure. I wish I didn’t have to come home. I wish it wasn’t this way. I wish it was different. I know I need to get away and I wish I could so I take the only way I know how. I don’t want this person around me. I want to be free. This is the only way.
I find some pills that are not mine at the top of the closet and I have some allergy pills that are mine, but I need more so I take those too. I go downstairs like nothing's wrong, fill up my water bottle, and I just start taking them all. And washing them down with water. I take so many because I’m like they’re not working, too late to turn back now it’s got to work. So, I keep taking them and washing them down and nearly empty my water bottle until all of a sudden, I feel it. My head is swimming. I am dizzy. I go to the bathroom mirror and my eyes are so big and still. I go back to the room and wait for the effects to take place. I can’t take anymore pills at this point because my stomach hurts and I just want to lay down but then I feel like I have to throw up and I notice that I can’t stand anymore. But I have to throw up so I’m wobbling on my hands and knees slowly to the bathroom with blurred vision. I start throwing up. I need to lay down. It’s not going to work now that I’m throwing up. Damn did I just mess it up. Some events in between and I don’t remember what happened once I got in the car because that’s when I blacked out. Though I still look back now like I wish I wouldn’t have got in the car. I wish I would just threw up on the floor, in the room, and layed down then my life now would’ve been this hard. I was stupid because now I can’t even take pills anymore, like I can’t orally digest them so now what do I do? I might’ve ruined the only chance that I had.
To be free because here I am once again. I want out. I don’t want to hear it anymore. I don’t want to deal with it anymore. I didn’t want to leave Memphis so bad I was like let me try again. I thought about it three weeks ago and many times since then and this is a girl who once believed that she couldn’t die. And I guess I still feel that way because every time I’ve tried it’s failed or either I can’t do it because a part of me wants to just die peacefully. Never having had peace in this life I had prayed for God to let me go, he not listening but that’s not a surprise because even when I ask for good, he never shows. Or she. Who cares? I don’t. I just want it to stop. If I am not going to have peace on earth, then what am I holding on for? Why am I being tortured? Why am I suffering? And I know as crazy as it sounds, I still feel like nothing's wrong with me.
I don’t blame me because I get it. My whole life all I’ve ever sought was peace and freedom and now that I’ve learned the word ease, I want that too. Sometimes I get a glimmer of hope, and I feel like I can do it, and I feel like my time has to come and I feel like I’m worth so much more so I can’t be done. I feel like I can’t die. As in I don’t want to. But then there’s always that place that takes me back and if I can’t get out what am I supposed to do? I feel like if I don’t kill myself them the stress ultimately will. The anger I carry at not having what I needed in this life. And it’s so simple a normal family, a peaceful, safe home, and a chance to actually live life. I didn’t get that. I feel robbed. I feel cheated and I know some people do go through it, but I don’t want to just make it. I really want what I needed because I know that is my way through. But how do I get what I needed when it’s still what I need? I can’t figure that part out. I am not God’s strongest so please you can stop testing me. I feel the weight of everything so peacefully or not I know I’m going to die but I just don’t want to be this way but again sometimes it feels like the only way. So, what do I do?
Like can you imagine living with someone who makes you want to kill yourself? Like you don’t want to be around them so bad? It’s not lost on me that I don’t need to be here, and I need to get away but how is the question I’m asking like please if you have a way? I don’t need a quick fix, believe me I have tried. I… just want a real solution. I don’t have the time to waste. I know what I need to do but to do it I need another life. A different one but then I wouldn’t even be having these problems so tell me sum. I don’t know where to go from here. God if you’re listening and you’re real and you’re here. I need my way out. I need the biggest miracle and blessing of them all. I think there’s things that I want to do and even am supposed to do but I can’t do them if I’m not here. Or maybe that’s it too. Maybe my fate is not what I think. Because everybody don’t get there which is what brought me here in the first place.
THIS IS JUST ME SPEAKING ON MY PERSONAL LIFE AND EXPERIENCE. THIS IS NOT ADVICE OR ANYTHING OF THAT SORT. PLEASE DO NOT TAKE THIS PERSONAL. THIS IS BASICALLY AN OPEN LETTER TO MYSELF AND GOD. PLEASE SEEK WHATEVER RESOURCES YOU NEED WHETHER PERSONALLY OR PROFESSIONALLY.