Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

May 3rd, 2018. It’s been 5 years, and I’ve spent that entire span of time proving you right. I’m alone today, and I really shouldn’t be alone today..

“Why do you want to die?”

~I’ve asked myself that question a thousand times, and I’ve come up with a thousand different answers. It depends on the time of day, whether or not I’ve seen the Sun in the past 24 hours. It changes based on how full I am, and whether or not I’ve cooked a decent meal for myself versus being surrounded by a mountain of empty pizza boxes. Maybe the biggest factor is how empty that brand new bottle of pills is after 1 not so bad day, and where I left my favorite knife last night…~

“I’m asking about today, right now. What happened? Taylor…what happened that made you want to die? What made death seem like your only option?”

~But dying isn’t my only option. Do you think I’ve come to this conclusion because it’s the only thing I have left?~

“Why else would you be saying it, acting the way you act, making everyone so worried that they felt the need to come find you in the middle of the night in your apartment to make sure you were still alive?! Why else would you want to die unless it was the only thing left?!”

~There are so many other things, but the main one would be this; I could die, or I could live. I’m picking between the 2.~

“Bullshit. You owe me more of an answer than that.”

~No, I don’t. It’s simple, and you don’t want it to be simple. You want a logical path. Well I didn’t follow any logic to get here, so I guess it’s a path you could never follow. And that upsets you, probably just as much as anything else I’ve said or done. You can’t see what I see, and you feel left behind, right?~

“You always do this…you always twist it into this…this thing, your thing, it always becomes your things, your words, your right and I’m wrong! I do feel left behind, okay?! I feel left behind, betrayed, abandoned, discarded, thrown in the garbage! I want to understand, but I can’t! I can’t, and I never can! You are somewhere in the universe, and it’s…it’s really, really far away…Taylor, you are right here in front of me, right? You’re voice is so close I can feel your breathing…but you aren’t here. Taylor…I can reach out my hand and touch your arm, but you aren’t really here…You feel so far away, when I never wanted that, ever. I would have followed you… I wanted to follow you…Taylor, please, tell me, why can’t we see the same things anymore? Hey, Taylor, why? Why? Hey, just tell me, please, I want to know. Why is it you want to go where I can’t follow? Where nobody can follow? Why do you want to die?”

~…What was it I wanted to be when I was finally all grown up? Do you remember?~

“…You said it didn’t matter what you did, or where you lived, or how long it would last. You said you just wanted to live and grow up to be happy…”

~That should be everybody’s goal, right? To find happiness, that’s all life should be. The details on how a person gets to that point, they shouldn’t matter, not in the long run. Don’t you agree?~

“I want that for you, Taylor. I want you to have happiness, so why do you want to…”

~Die? What if I said it’s because that’s what would make me happy? You wouldn’t wish for my happiness then, would you?~

“Taylor…I’m not sure…”

~You can’t imagine death like that. You can’t imagine death as granting somebody happiness.~

“People are always dying, it’s part of life. Sometimes people are suffering, and death would be better than the pain of living. Is that what you’re getting at? That you are in so much pain that dying would be a mercy, and thus make you happy?”

~Absolutely not. That line of thinking is a copout. My suffering, my pain, I can gauge them against other peoples, and it’s obvious I’m one lucky person. I have more going for me than going against me.~

“..But you still want to die?”

~Yes.~

“And dying is the best way for you to be happy?”

~Dying would be scary. The thought of not existing frightens me. I’m scared out of my mind, and every time I take another pill or cut another notch in my skin, I feel a real terror, that I’ve gone to far this time, that I won’t make it back. I’m terrified of what death means.~

“Then why seek it out?! Why are you doing this if you are afraid?! God, Taylor…you have people who don’t want you dead! They want you to live and smile and be happy! And you make those people happy! You add so much to the lives of so many! Don’t downplay it! Don’t do it, Taylor! You don’t need to die!”

~I know I don’t. I get what you’re trying to say, and why you’re saying it, and it makes me feel really, really warm, to hear you say that. But I know I don’t have to die.~

“Taylor..”

~But I’ve thought about it. A lot. Like, a lot a lot, and I’ve realized I’m not living to be happy. I want happiness. Well, more like I want to want happiness. That doesn’t make much sense, but it’s the best way I can say it. I’m not living, working and saving, trying and hoping, for a future. I’m not thinking about what tomorrow might bring, I’m just thinking about getting there. And that in and of itself isn’t such a bad thing, especially for someone who has depression. I was struggling just to wake up, because nothing seemed worth it. I fought with myself every night, and I kept getting up, kept fighting off my demons. It hurt…but I was trying to win. I wanted to eventually win, and feel free, feel something other than empty.~

“You weren’t! You’re Not empty, not at all! You have so much inside of you, and you show it every day! You give people, you give ME, something that nobody else can! So you are NOT empty!”

~You are kind, and not just for saying those things. You aren’t saying them just because you think I need to hear those words, I know that. And I want to believe in you. I want to believe in the you who believes in me. But at the end of the day, no version of me feels anything, aside from this fear of dying. And so I keep living. For me, that’s not what I want. I want to beat the fear, I want to see what’s on the other side. I want to fight back in the only way I feel will matter. I want to die.~

“..what about what I want?”

~I’m selfish, you know this. In the end I’m always going to pick me.~

“I mean nothing to you?”

~You know you are more than nothing…~

“So I’m not the dirt, but the worms in the dirt?! I’m one step up from trash in your eyes! That’s all people are to you, huh?! A blur of faces, and none of us mean a fucking, goddamn thing to you!”

~…~

“Say it! Fucking say it! Admit it! Just say that you don’t give a flying fuck! I was never anything to you! And nobody else, and nobody EVER, could ever have been something!”

~…~

“You always have something to say, so why are you being quiet!? Why won’t you just fucking say it! It doesn’t matter, you are going to die anyway, so why not just say it?! SAY IT!!!”

~I…I want to die…and I know what that means…regardless of my feelings and reasons, in the end, it’s selfish, the ultimate selfish act… I don’t want to say it all meant nothing…but my actions speak louder than words…~

“…So I’m nothing…and this…us…we were…we are…nothing?”

~…~

“You…dying should be easy, seeing as how you are so good at killing others.”

~I didn’t want to…~

“YOU DIDN’T WHAT?! Didn’t want to HURT me?! You let people close to you! Maybe we didn’t know the real you, maybe you just played us, all of us, your entire fucking life, but we CARED! And we still care! And you don’t get to say you didn’t want to hurt anybody when you say you want to die!”

~…you asked me why, and I told you why…and I knew this would happen, which is why I didn’t want to talk about it.~

“O of COURSE you knew! You know everything, right?! Just the all seeing Taylor, peering straight into your soul! What amazing spiritual prowess!”

~…just shut up, for one minute, please. Just…stop. I told you, I knew how this would end, how this conversation would have to end. I’ve spent years thinking this through in my head, and…~

“Why don’t YOU just shut the fuck up, for 5 fucking minutes! It’s my turn to talk, not yours! This is my lecture, and you WILL listen! You always have something to say! Taylor, you ALWAYS have a response! Why is that, huh? Why do you always have to have a come back, have the last word, leave the last impression? You don’t even have an answer for me, you know you are being a selfish prick, and you think just admitting that will make me understand?! I totally fucking get that you are being a grade A asshat! I totally understand that you are aware of your status as a douchebag! But being aware and admitting to it doesn’t mean you understand how I FEEL! Do I feel betrayed? Yes! Do I feel angry? Big ol fucking hell yeah! Do I want to punch you square in the jaw? Give me some tape and brass knuckles and I’d go to town! But do I ever, for a second, want you to leave? Well, what do you think? Now it’s your turn to talk, so go ahead Taylor.”

~..I can’t make excuses, and I won’t try. I hurt you, and treated you and others like garbage. I’m a garbage human for that.~

“That’s not answering my question, Taylor.”

~Look, at some point, even if I wasn’t trying to hurt anybody, I made the choices that were going to hurt them, which is the same as making the decision to hurt them…to hurt you..and I…~

“STILL NOT ANSWERING MY QUESTION!”

~WELL THE ANSWER SHOULD BE OBVIOUS! YOU SHOULD WANT TO LEAVE! I MADE IT SO THAT IS THE ONLY THING THAT MAKES SENSE!~

“And since when have I ever made any sort of sense, huh?!”

~STOP! Just…just fucking STOP! I want to die, because I don’t know how to live! And so long as something is keeping me tethered to the here and now I’ll never be able to take that next step! I should be dead! So why am I not dead?! Because it would hurt my friends and family?! Because I’m afraid to die?! I have no illusion of hope! I crushed every ounce of me that would even dare to hope! I’m a patchwork of bullshit human emotions hiding behind an idiots mask! I’m not the person you think I am! I’m not even the person I thought I was! I’m not! I’m just…I’m nothing…and I don’t care anymore…just go ahead and hate me, fuck it. I don’t care anymore.~

“Taylor. You still haven’t answered my question.”

~…you wouldn’t leave me.~

“And do you know why?”

~I’m toxic. You’re supposed to cut toxic people out of your life, we do nothing but take, and…~

“DO. YOU. KNOW. WHY?!”

~Jesus fucking Christ, no, okay! I don’t know why you stay, or want to stay! I don’t!~

“FINALLY! Something you don’t know! I finally get to teach you something! Listen up, and listen good, because I’m only going to say this once. Well, I’ll actually say this as many times as I need to in order to get it through that thick skull of yours. Are you listening?”

~..just tell me.~

“I won’t walk away from you, and I don’t want to walk away from you, because I love you.”

~I’m not worth loving…~

“Doesn’t matter. My love is there. I don’t love everything about you. Like right now, I’m not loving how sore my throat is from yelling at you. I’m not loving how stupid you are, or how cold it is in the middle of April in your apartment, since you never turn the heat up after March. I’m not loving how tired your eyes are…and how sloped your back is. I don’t like how dry your skin looks, or how you haven’t shaved in what must be months. I don’t love that you aren’t taking care of yourself…and I don’t love how you want to die…but Taylor, I still love you. I’m your friend, and I love you. I love seeing you smile, and I know you want me to smile too. I’m not going to throw you away. You are acting like you are throwing me away, and you are even saying you will…but I don’t buy it. I don’t know if you could actually go through with it Taylor. And honestly..I don’t even know if things will get better…I don’t know if I can help, but God I want to. I want to help you Taylor. I don’t understand, but I want to help anyway.”

~..You’re to good for me…~

“Hey, I agree with you, but I’m here anyway. And I’m not going anywhere.”

~…I didn’t think this talk would end like this.~

“End? O heavens no, this talk is FAR from over.”

~Damnit..should’ve guessed.~

“You still feel like you want to die, right?”

~…yeah…~

“Let’s go get dinner. Chinese buffet sound good?”

~I’m not sure if dinner is…~

“Look, nobody has EVER killed themselves while enjoying a chinese buffet. At least not at the Golden Dragon. Or at least not in the past year. And you haven’t eaten today. So, we shall feast!”

~You switch gears awfully fast.~

“There are 7 billion humans on Earth. And the Earth is a giant ball of dirt and shit flying through space, stuck in orbit around a giant oven planet, which is only 1 of an infinite number of giant oven planets in a universe we can’t even begin to imagine. Gotta stay flexible.”

~…Fried rice does sound good.~

“You’re driving.”

~Of course, I wouldn’t trust you driving us anywhere.~

“Very true.”

~…Thank you…~

“Don’t thank me. We’re just starting Taylor.”

~…Will you hate me, if you wake up some day and I’m not here?~

“I think what you’re really asking, is whether or not I’d forgive you.”

~…~

“And that would depend. But overall, probably not.”

~Yeah…~

“But that’s not going to be enough of a reason for you not to kill yourself anyway, so it’s not worth me, or you, worrying about. I want you to find a reason to live that isn’t based on guilt. But, if guilt will prolong things, I’m very willing to lean on it, at least for now.”

~That’s pretty cruel.”

“You aren’t the only one who can be ruthless Taylor.”

~You got me there.~

“I’m not leaving. And I’m not going to give you a free pass if you die.”

~…you really are to good for me…~

“Of course. Now, let’s hit the road. I need a full 2 hours to make full use of the buffet.”

~…thank you…~

“O shut up! But you’re welcome.”

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Uncategorized

I want to let you hurt me, so I can pretend it was all my choice.

But that’s the coward’s retort, a way to displace blame from you and a way to justify my self hatred. Tell it like it is; we didn’t work.

I was needy, clingy, desperate to prove I was worth being loved when I already knew that wasn’t something I needed to prove.

You were eager for love but hesitant in the “forever” we kept on saying. Reality came crashing down on us and you realized what forever really meant, and you saw the end and decided this was the point to say goodbye.

I took it hard, which I was allowed to do.

You left and found something new, which you were allowed to do.

What wasn’t okay was how I became obsessed with forever, how I tried to use that to manipulate you, to get you to stay when anyone could see you were heading for the door. I spent all of my time making excuses for my shitty behavior instead of just being myself. I wanted to change to be whatever you needed, but you didn’t want me to change, you just wanted a change, so with no direction I just lost myself. I expected you to guide me, but that’s not your job, and it never was.

What also wasn’t okay was how you attacked me at every turn for things that you knew would hurt, even if they were contradictory. You called me a liar for things I didn’t lie about, and went on to use the most traumatic event we shared, the abortion, to cut me as deep as possible. The abortion that I had to schedule, that I never wanted and held my tongue during the entire process because I knew it wasn’t my place to make that call even though we had talked about having kids, even gave this pregnancy a name… I sat through a meeting to confirm everything, was asked by a counselor about how I felt, and I had tears in my eyes but said nothing.

You knew how I felt.

I didn’t smile for a month.

I was stupid and spent a month doing nothing but trying to comfort you without ever speaking my mind, telling you how I felt, because I just hoped..Hoped you would ask, because the way you looked at me I could tell…you know how I felt and just didn’t want to deal with me…But you knew, and when you got mad you used my pain against me. You told me you were glad you got the abortion, regardless of the reasons you gave, because I was a liar, because I would have been a father who can only lie, that I would have been a terrible father, the worst father…you said I would have been the worst father…you said that to me, and I knew you were right. You said you were glad my child never had to meet me…and I knew, right then, that I’d never have kids. I knew it, and you knew it, and after everything you knew about me you knew how much that would hurt…but you did it anyway.

So yeah, I broke. That was 4 years ago. I never got better. I stopped knowing how to be anything other than a failure. I work, I go home, I get high, I cut, I ignore everyone and everything. I am just proving you right. But I don’t want to prove you wrong…because I want to make it a reality, an excuse for why the abortion had to happen. I want to blame myself. So I just became pathetic, and I’m just proving you right, which is beyond stupid, but it’s all I can do…this is the best I can do; empty pill bottles and bloody shits, shaky knees and unwashed mountains of clothes and dishes. A personality that only knows sarcasm, to push people away. A phone that’s left off, and all attempts by the outside to contact me are ignored. But even though that’s what I’m doing I can still see that I want to be social. I actually want friends. I miss talking to people, and ramble on and on at work because of it. I think it’s a trait of depression, or loneliness, that co-workers might ramble on. It’s because at work they can pretend to be something other than alone…

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Uncategorized

Every day I feel it, and it hurts, but never enough…I never feel like I’m hurting enough.

Do you want to know what it feels like? To be sitting in a waiting room of a planned parenthood, knowing that only a door away lies your girlfriend who is begging for the pain meds to numb her emotions as thoroughly as they have her body?

For starters it makes you feel useless.

You can feel every individual heartbeat under your chest, the noise echoing into your bones, and even though blood is clearly rushing to provide oxygen to your body, you are short of breath.

The exit sign above the waiting room door begins to shine and grow and shine until it becomes a red blur against the screams you are holding back.

The purse she leaves with you suddenly weighs a ton and becomes the only anchor binding you to that ugly, uncomfortable chair.

You blink as rapidly as possible, praying that with each closing a new tomorrow will be staring you in the face, that you’ll wake up and this nightmare will fade away.

You clench your fists so tight you doubt a crow bar could open them.

You can suddenly smell the other people in the room; the overused cologne and perfume, the scent of sweat rolling over you like an ocean breeze, the stench of bodies unwashed for days that fights its way into the portion of your brain you associate with fear.

You feel all this and still…you can’t even imagine, can’t even begin to fathom what the real pain is like, so you pray to whatever God, any God, every God that somehow, someway you can take any of that pain away, take even a fraction of what she’s feeling into your body so she won’t have to feel the full brunt of it. You do this knowing it’ll only push you over that edge and in that moment you see the truth.

Every single fear you’ve had about who you are becomes reality. You realize the world sees you exactly how you see yourself and you stop having that hope you deserve to smile.

But do you know what sucks the most about sitting in that ugly fucking chair, waiting in silence to see the girl who just went through hell…

~If you feel like your life is over, what does she feel as the one with her body limp on that table, trying to ignore that doctor telling her it’ll be over before she knows it, holding onto that nurses hand as if she’s about to fall off the edge of the world…