Is watching Requiem for a Dream with roommates who scoff at the downward spiral message and then call your boy from jail to ask him to remove the syringes taped under his dresser so his parents can collect his furniture after he destroyed his parents house while they were out of town in a very out of hand party.

Never have I ever, will I ever, could I ever fathom crossing that threshold of destruction. I guess that’s one of those assessment points where I clearly has to define the space of oh, these aren’t the people I thought they were.

Thinking about

Conversations I’d hear in Wyoming after someone I did not know but was connected to the group I traveled amongst OD’d.

Very quietly they’d ask each other ” do you think he knew? Was it intentional?” As if the threshold for healthy drug consumption was consistent and universally known for all of them and the only way they could have possible let themselves slip away was if it were intentional.

I’m reminded of that Puscifer song Breathe, where the chorus is quite literally a reminder to ‘don’t forget to breathe ‘ and perhaps there where moments in my relaxed state where I had to tell myself to inhale because I was so comfortable that this function that is taken for granted as autonomous eluded me. I was just lucky that my experiments didn’t take me somewhere blacker than the deepest pitch.

I knew guys who would go to people’s houses, pretending their car was broken down so that they could use the restroom and raid the medicine cabinet. I knew guys who would enter into relationships with people who had crippling disabilities.. not to provide comfort for that person but to exploit their monthly prescription for personal use and were abusive in their manipulations and the poor girl was so love hungry and guilt ridden over her own personal history that despite my best efforts I could not help her get into a healthier space. (I’m sorry Christina, when I read about your death I was shook but they frightened me too much to intercede further, especially when you yourself were unwilling)

At one point the son of a local cop, and fellow high school attendee robbed the pharmacy with a friend by climbing through the duct work. The only reason they were caught was because they wouldn’t shut up about it at parties.

I had this naive sense that the big guy I was with could protect me from the other unsavory sorts I had already experienced previously and sure maybe our home for a time was safer than others but ultimately his desire for a particular lifestyle cost us that safety and trust. I don’t blame him as I am also responsible for the peices I participated in and accepted as just natural behaviors of those I was surrounded by, I had just hoped that given his proclaimed history of trauma that we were both of the mindset to craft something better.

To escape I didn’t exactly take the path of complete sobriety but chose the process of elimination to take out those things I found most detrimental to my personal wellness.

Today I am far removed from that which was but my experiences crafted something more fearful in me about the greater state of our social climate and I hear

Solitary confinement

I just feel so broken. It’s been this way for years, as long as I can remember. But lately I really feel it. How can anyone live this long and have no one? Sure, there are people who pretend to care. But they’re all way too self-involved to even lift a finger. And it’s always been this way. It can’t be like this for everyone else. I see the pictures, smiling, happy with their significant others, their babies; their families and friends. None of them are so alone they find themselves talking to themselves out of sheer loneliness. Like I’m doing now I guess. I have these dreams where I’m surrounded by people and I’m funny and flirty and liked and wanted and then I wake up to the same nothingness I left behind when I went to sleep. Every damn day. All these thoughts racing around my head and no one to share them with. What did I do so wrong that no one wants to be a part of my life? Family, friends, potential lovers, just rejection after rejection after rejection. I have to feel like I don’t deserve this, but I must. What other answer is there? “Hey, just love yourself and drink water and everything will be better!” Says everyone who has no fucking clue what my life has been like for so long now. Why don’t you love me and drink some water with me? Oh, I guess I’m just feeling sorry for myself again, time to go back to sleep. My life is so much better in that state.

I Am Not Happy

Today really sucked, per usual. Nonetheless, I was off from work for the last two days on PTO. I was alone and stuck in my thoughts for the most part. I don’t have any friends, so it’s hards to really talk to anyone about what I have been feeling. I tried the therapy thing, and it did nothing for me, honestly. So sometimes, I come here and I write about you or the other person who is often on my mind.

However, today is a different day bc I realized that I need to focus more on myself. I need to regroup and figure out how to get out of my funk. I am really bored and low keep depressed. I know I shouldn’t be complaining bc I am in a much better space than most people. I have a roof over my head and I still live at home with mom. I have a great job with a solid compensation package, and I am healthy despite having COVID several months back.

Honestly speaking, I feel tired…tired of everything. Tired of worrying about everything.

Hopeful forgets the nightmare

Running away from nightmares tonight,

Feasible in the dark corners of the room

Tangible in the flimsy peripheral

Of my mind.

And I wish I wouldn’t fall asleep

And I wish I wouldn’t live in fear

And I wish I knew it was just a nightmare to me

And somewhere there are jokes

and song interludes with funny names

And my sister holding my hand as

I learned to breathe on a hospital bed

And my father’s exasperated voice

Telling me it will be okay

And it will be.

Time and time again.

Please Evacuate Immediately

A news update beeps on my phone. 1.8 miles away Fox Hollow /Bear Creek Golf course is burning uncontained, pictures show a long expanding grass fire line. I can see the the plume of smoke as it pillars up and spreads the surrounding neighborhoods. The evacuation line stops just shy of our block, the nearby high school being broadcasted as community shelter.

Guess I’ll have to keep an eyes on that tonight.

The helicopters are buzzing by to relay the latest updates.

Of my shoulders

I have to get a few things of my shoulders. My thoughts have been circling around the same stuff for quite some time and a few new things joined.

There is this one guy, I liked him since 7th grade, the first time I saw him.
A year ago, we kissed and it felt like heaven. One Problem. My bestfriend used to like him and pressured me to stop talking to him or else I‘ll lose her.
I haven’t talked to him since and my heart aches everytime I see him in my class. I just don‘t know what to do and feel so lost.

My mum just had an Operation and I was so scared, she is the only family that I have left, since my dad has been in prison for almost 4 years now.
I don’t have anybody else and now even my imprisoned dad has COVID.

Sometimes it’s just a little bit too much.

I have always dreamed of studying at this university but since my dad‘s lawyers cost us so much and my mum is working alone I will not be able to go.

To be honest I guess I‘m fine. I feel guilty complaining but goes on right?

Just had to get something of my shoulders..

My mind is a black hole

I don’t even know why I feel the need to write about this. I guess just knowing someone has read it might make me feel better. Sort of like a confession without having to actually tell someone. I had a great weekend and was unable relatively good mood. I came in today and my boss was in a bad mood. It set me off because this is the busiest day of the month for me. So I’m working on important shit and all of a sudden realize how much I love my sister and that one day, one of us is going to die and the other is going to be absolutely destroyed when that happens. No matter how old we are. One of us is going to have to live without the other and I can’t even imagine that. I start crying, get up and shut my door but keep working. Then I think about how my husband is going to die one day. Crying harder, now. Still working. Then I think about how something can happen to one of my kids. Then I realize that my parents are actually old now. Like my dad is about to be 70 this month. I think about how far away he is now and that I hardly ever see him. My sister shared a screenshot of him singing in his church. She watched it live on Facebook. And I can’t even stand to watch it because it will just trigger me and remind me of how far away he is. And that even if he lives to be 80, I probably have less than ten more times to actually see him. I think of how my kids are getting older. I cradled my 8 year old and sang her to sleep last night. I thought about how me and my husband used to grab her hands and swing her as we would walk. I don’t remember the last time we were able to do that. She is too tall now. So I thought, there will be a last time for me to cradle her and sing her to sleep and unless I keep a journal I won’t even remember it. It will just stop one day and never happen again. And I just feel the weight of life bearing down on me. That we just keep blindly going forward. Like walking through land mines, never knowing when something is going to detonate and change everything. Now I am in my car chain smoking. I’m about to go back inside and continue working like nothing ever happened. I don’t understand why I am like this and how I can just shut this shit off. Life is too much sometimes.

All worked up

I spent the day trying to find words for family of mine, still so enamored with the promise of Trump that they think the nation is now doomed

Oh no! Those oil men and women aren’t going to get their Keystone pipeline to work on so the governments dooming us.

I try to explain about the indigenous communities living on the land, who protested it before the groundwork was ever laid out who had rubber bullets rained down on them from their ancestral burial grounds, or the 400,000 gallons of crude oil that’s already spilled into the wetlands ecosystems. I provide articles on the treaties that promised the protection of these lands to the communities…

And the response I get? That’s just the way it is. They don’t even touch the information I provide from perfectly credible sources, instead citing that because their great great grandparents had a house on land that was taken for a water tower in Cali during the dustbowl, that it’s totally legit for this to happen now and Lo! She fuckin supports it to the point of saying the nations rubbish now that they’re reversing the decision. The fuck is this.

I’m gonna go have a toast for Flint.