trashed

05/21/2014

“In fact I’ll go further and say that I think you actually get a kick out of being

 disappointed and under-achieving because it’s easier, isn’t it?

Failure and unhappiness are easier because you can make a joke out of it.” 

Have you ever had a full blown anxiety attack? Not a panic attack, no no.  I believe there is a difference, and well I’d like to think that it's anxiety. I can sense it before it hits... but I am powerless. My mind loses control, my heart starts racing, my muscles twitching, my breathing is short, close to hyperventilation. And all of the thoughts in my head come through at such an  increased rate it's impossible to grab a hold on anything at all. Everything I need to do, everything that I should do, everything I should have done and everything I have done wrong, converge, like a four way stop sign, but none of the cars stop. BAM. Collide. Fighting for dominance and then defeat.

LOSE. LOSE. LOSE. LOSE. 

My mind was cloudy, foggy.... creeping in. I could feel the invisible vise clamp down on my throat, slight pressure, pressing harder and harder on my larynx until I realized.

I was no longer in the driver seat of my truck. With the suffocation comes claustrophobia and all I could about doing was crawling into my closet, curling up next to my shoes and Boo-Kitty, it was to get rid of all of the noise, my fear would be left outside the closet and I’m left with myself.

But instead of napping in my closet, I grabbed a syringe, spoon, a couple of OXYS, my last bag of crystal meth and slammed the needle right into the jugular. I’d hit the vein square on, and left the needle hanging out the side of my neck, waited for the blood to fill up the syringe and slowly pulled the needle from my throat. I remember my mother talking a lot at dinner, she asked me if I was tired. Really, I cannot provide any details, I can’t remember.

                I have yet to have an intervention.