I know the right steps to take, and spending a week in the hospital because I downed to many prescription pills is not one of those steps. So why did I just do that?

Why would things have to turn out like this, huh? Can anyone give me an answer that would calm me down, turn my radical sense of self-loathing into a more calm, rational sense of mild self-hatred? I am aware; I am a creature of habit. I fall into the holes of life not because of … Continue reading I know the right steps to take, and spending a week in the hospital because I downed to many prescription pills is not one of those steps. So why did I just do that?

I tick away the time, peeling back the skin on my fingers, bleeding all over the pages of this brand new journal. I have a mechanical pencil with an abundance of .07 lead, but I still chose to write my story in red?

Take nothing for granted and keep your eyes focused on the future, so things like student loan debt and a terrible job market won’t swallow you whole. The thing is I don’t have it that bad. I have a pretty stable job, with plenty of potential for growth (which means more money). I am paying … Continue reading I tick away the time, peeling back the skin on my fingers, bleeding all over the pages of this brand new journal. I have a mechanical pencil with an abundance of .07 lead, but I still chose to write my story in red?

I’ve grown accustomed to my own lack of patience, pushing aside the reality of my short temper by hiding behind a mountain of excuses, like my insufficient sleep schedule or my diet of razor blades and a nightly bottle of pills. But let’s break that down to it’s pieces, shall we?

My sleep isn’t so much a lack thereof, but a world of nightmares that makes nothing feel like real rest. Every wall is a mirror, and my whole body is covered in bright red scars, and everyone I’ve ever known is watching me and walking by and offering help, offering hands and tissue paper and … Continue reading I’ve grown accustomed to my own lack of patience, pushing aside the reality of my short temper by hiding behind a mountain of excuses, like my insufficient sleep schedule or my diet of razor blades and a nightly bottle of pills. But let’s break that down to it’s pieces, shall we?

The excuses are all gone, replaced with a very real, grounded reason to reach the bottom of this bottle. I’m halfway in, but I tend to only do things half-assed, so let’s see if I can break that habit tonight.

I realize, of course, what these decisions I have made over the past few years have lead me towards; a slothful life full of wasted moments that have somehow become wasted years, turning this mind into mush and these years into a wasted life, a wasted potential, a waste of a waste, truly God’s ideal … Continue reading The excuses are all gone, replaced with a very real, grounded reason to reach the bottom of this bottle. I’m halfway in, but I tend to only do things half-assed, so let’s see if I can break that habit tonight.

On clear nights I stare at the sky and make a wish to those billion year old lights, and it’s the same wish every single time. 

I want to live in a place where my heart feels...weightless. I want to know the type of hug that feels warm, like summer air against your skin. I want to find myself lost in thoughts of fireworks and pancake breakfasts, snowball fights in January and chocolate filled Halloweens. I want to look forward to … Continue reading On clear nights I stare at the sky and make a wish to those billion year old lights, and it’s the same wish every single time. 

A quarter century has passed, and I don’t want this to be everything, but another day has gone by, and that empty bottle of pills feels like the only thing I can hold onto.

I think my subconscious is trying to force my throat shut so I can’t keep downing these pills like fucking skittles. Haha, jokes on me, I’ve spent my entire life forcing bullshit out of my mouth, so forcing some more shit back down? It’s easy as 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, … Continue reading A quarter century has passed, and I don’t want this to be everything, but another day has gone by, and that empty bottle of pills feels like the only thing I can hold onto.

The words and opinions of others mean much more to me than my own. It’s why I write and write and write; so I can read about the kind of person I’m growing into. 

I stopped listening to the words on this page, so I can’t really tell when they started to betray me. A lifetime lost in pages, it’s insane to look back and not recognize the person that wrote all of those lines. It’s such a drawn out fall, so gradual a slope that nobody would ever … Continue reading The words and opinions of others mean much more to me than my own. It’s why I write and write and write; so I can read about the kind of person I’m growing into.