Part Three – I don’t want to die. But I don’t want to live either. I did it again
Monday September 17, 2012
Colorful lights dance behind my eyes. My heart pounds to the beat of a drum that’s all too familiar. I toss and I turn. Sleep is a beautiful thing, but insomnia has chosen me instead. After a few sleeping pills I have finally fallen asleep. Waking up that morning was the same as any other day. The minute my eyes open my heart races. I mean POUNDS. I cannot breathe. I feel like I’ve sniffed a huge line of fishscale, had the shit scared out of me and am being strangled all at once. It’s really a remarkable feeling let me tell ya. This is what I live for man! This is an everyday thing for me. The “norm” if you will.
I swing my legs over the edge of my bed and force myself to walk. The pains in my chest are dangerously sharp, daring me to breathe. Another day I ask myself “why?” “Why the hell am I here? To wake up everyday with painstaking, torturous anxiety?” I fight the palpatations, struggle to breathe. My vision becomes blurry. My arms begin to tingle and are slightly numb. A nasty headache burrows itself deep in between my eyes making my head spin furiously. I refuse to take a xanax. I just took two to put me to sleep last night! They should have carried over, this is bullshit. This is unreal. This is my everyday morning. The thought of even leaving my doorstep makes me cringe with fear. I can’t even make it to the mailbox to get the fucking mail. Knowing there is a world revolving out there and I’m not a part of it kills me. Tears my soul and existence to shreds that I cannot put back together. I miss the cool morning air, the rush hour traffic, stopping at my favorite deli for a cup of coffee and a sandwich. Flipping off that one asshole who can’t drive for shit who has me wondering how they got their license in the first place. Having a purpose, being a part of this crazy thing we call society. I’m losing it. Totally falling off my rocker. Slipping through the cracks. Or maybe, to some, just giving up. And that’s exactly what happened for the second time this year.
There’s a very odd feeling when you think you’re about to die. It’s one of the most perplexed feelings I’ve ever encountered. Upon swallowing all the pills there’s a calmness. A sense of freedom, a very sad freedom. Almost like you’ve won a victory that you never really wanted to…