My father was an alcoholic and he died 15 years sober so don’t tell me that death at the hand of an addiction is inevitable. Don’t stand there and preach to the world that drugs and alcohol and depression are the gateways to death, breathing is the gateway to death. Some of us just happen to be in so much pain that anything that will numb our existence is something we need. Don’t stand there and judge me like you’ve never found yourself crying in the middle of a cold shower for something that felt at the time like it would never go away, like you would never be okay. We have all played with the idea of death because as much as time heals all wounds, the pain is all too consuming to grasp the concept of breathing let alone of time. You keep throwing cliche’s at me like you know what I’m experiencing. “Come on child, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” I’m not sorry to disappoint you, what didn’t kill me in the past has failed to make me strong. I am fragile and weak from this system that sounds so perfect in theory but in practice has failed every single one of us. As easy as you think it is to forgive transgressions and to forget painful pasts, it eats at you daily because ‘what if’s’ are far greater and more powerful than ‘what have been’s’. Just because my problem seems small from where you’re standing does not mean it doesn’t have the ability to consume me, to drown me, to swallow me whole and you have no right to tell me how to fix it. Sit down. If you’re that interested in my issues and my selfish desires to eliminate them with a quick and cowardice solution then let’s talk because no amount of you standing over there and yelling at me to get off of the ledge, to put the blade down, to step off of the chair, is going to turn my addiction to depression into vapour. When someone is annoyed, everything is annoying. The same goes for sadness.
My name is irrelevant and I am addicted to sadness.
Tomorrow marks the beginning of my latest writing endeavor. NaNoWriMo is a well known death sentence to all things social. I will be attempting to write a 50 000 word novel in just 30 days. Spare a thought or a kind word. Speak soon.
I woke up one day, lost and afraid and desperate. He had left me desolate. There was no turning from this pain only ripping of dry blood again and again with every thought of his touch in every memory that clutched so longingly to songs and poems and clouds and it’s hard to make tea just for me now. You see, he started as a thought, an idea, a wish shouted out into the vastness. an answered prayer. And time stopped every time he was near and now it’s as if all of those missed minutes and hours and days came speeding up and smashed right into my face the sadness I neglected and the joy I overspent and the tears I selfishly held on to because I was too busy playing around with the different ways in which I could turn my smile right side down. I am a wreckage of mass proportions. And that’s okay. I need not explain when they complain that he’s not worth it. My tears, my anger, my solitude. He was worth every piece of me then, nothing has changed. I will give him my wrath as freely as I did my body, with trust that he will know what to do with it. I will hand him my tears in cups made from hands he promised would always be my harness. He can take my pride and my dignity and I will show him that being the lady-part of human does not always mean composure nor does it mean grace or turning away my face from his nonchalant cavalier attack on my heart. I loved him with every fragile bit of my being and the evidence was seen in the shattered porcelain on the floor and the key tracks in the door and the briefest second in which I calculated the trunk size of my car or the stamina with which I could carry his heavy heart over my shoulder with its leg attached to a boulder. I will take this brief second to break, for the longer I wait the smaller the frame will become leaving me with no words to shout, no dishes to break, only wishes I had taken this courage of mine to speak my mind and bare my insides. They were full of you but I am rid of you and wish everything of the best with you.
I woke up one day, found and okay.