i think what's really bothering me is that i was just waking up from my overdose the day she died.
i felt pretty bad for my friends and her family during the funeral, but mostly what i thought about was how much i admired her. her courage. i guess i'm just one cry for help after another. i'm so completely codependent in every aspect of my life, even this is no different. but she knew what she wanted and she did what she had to do to get it.
i went to ninevah and madison to try to break out of my funk. i went from the pretty amazing high of eating what might as well be dieken's doughnuts with the long lost roguebadass to practically reliving my entire three-year relationship with jo3 in just a few short hours.
i don't know what's wrong with me. i don't know why i can't control my thoughts. my reactions. i don't know why people are the only thing i place any importance on when it's people that hurt me most. (though i guess they probably wouldn't be able to hurt me if they weren't so important to me.)
i can't comprehend why what i think i am doesn't seem to be what i really am at all. i really feel like i'm losing my mind. this is no different than the paranoid anxiety of a bad trip, only i can't count on this wearing off in a few hours. i may be facing this everyday for the rest of my life. i simply don't know how to cope with this feeling for 70+ more years. i just can't imagine what could possibly be worth it. worse yet, i don't know how to deal with the fear that this will continue to get worse.
i used to be determined to get through/over this on my own. i don't think i can anymore. i went to my parents for help, but it only made things worse. i went to my friends, but they only let me down. if i have to do it on my own, i really don't think i can.
i'm afraid of the things i think about doing. that fear is the only thing holding me back. but as the days go on and the pain gets worse, i'm afraid that fear won't be enough anymore.
i've been considering some vacation time at the mental health hospital. but that's a burden and an embarassment in itself. whatever progress i made in there, i'm afraid a few hateful people could wreck it in no time at all. so, why bother?
but maybe that's just my brain getting the best of me.
i think of running away. of starting fresh. but i'm afraid we never really change at all.