sWell (shakewell) wrote,

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can't keep the nightmares at bay

i didn't have to see the cuts
i saw the bandages
and that was enough

i'm having nightmares now
waking up in cold sweats

and when i wake
i can't remember what's real
and what's fake

it's terrifying really
i've never been so distraught in my life
i'm actually afraid to sleep
i don't want to see those sights again

so now i can't sleep
i'm exhausted
sick and tired
but i just can't do it
can't even come close

this whole ordeal has got me thinking about my past. why did i do it? i can't even fucking remember. it had a little to do with angie. perhaps something to do with brent. and something to do with micah. and i'm sure it had a lot to do with school and family. but it wasn't anything specific. just one day i finally had the means. or so i thought...

now i've been plenty depressed since that near-fatal week. but i'd never seriously considered suicide again until last week. not even in kansas. out there, i just wanted to be heard. but last week, i was ready to end it all. i just needed to find the means again. and this time i had to be certain.

i couldn't go back to that hospital. i couldn't watch my family go through that again. i couldn't explain to work why i wouldn't be in for a few weeks. so i had to be sure it would be finished.

and i was supposed to call him that night. i started to. but i never finished dialing. i didn't want to let him talk me out of it. but GOD how i wish i had called. i don't know if it would have helped. in fact, i'm fairly certain that it would not have. if he would have heard everything that was going on in my head, we both would have been in trouble that night.

so i came home and read all about it. i can't describe how i felt. i'm not sure i felt anything at all. nothing normal anyway. i felt like an ass for not calling. i felt surprised. shocked. floored.

and since john's death (suicide?) i seem to have lost my ability to cope with things like this. in some ways, this is better than my previous over-dramatic outlook. but i think, in the long run, it's going to be a lot worse. one of these days it's all just going to come gushing out of me that all my friends hate life and can't come to me for help. the jewsus and god and the whole fucking world are really out to get everyone and they are succeeding admirably. that everything that can go wrong will and there's no point in hoping for anything.

but he gets out tomorrow. and i'll see him. and i'll hug him. and then maybe i can cry and get it all over with. then sleep and peace and life as usual.

i tell you what, i'm half-tempted to find my old blade and go to fucking town. i could use some fucking relief right now.
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