I’ve spent the last 48 hours sitting, walking, cooking…Not hungry. I start pacing. Hello panic attacks…Nothing is really helping. Someone shared a suicide story on Facebook. Great, I decided to watch it. I”m completely beside myself. I go to youtube in the hopes of listening to some music that will help and I find more “suicide hope” videos. Yeah…I’m filled with the hope of an end someday. They all seem to outline my issues in a glorified, filtered image.
Another panic attack. My heart is going to give out before I can commit at this point. I’ve started to cross into the realm of being so sleep deprived that I am hallucinating. Suicidal person+motivation+ looking for excuses+hallucinations? That does not bode well. I saw my grandfather. The only real family i’ve ever had. July 16th marks 14 years. No matter the year, I’ve always imagined myself passing away on the same day as his death. Maybe that’s a fantasy but to me, it is a real possibility.
I’ve started debating taking risks. I live on a college campus. I work for the university as an RA. I manage an apartment complex where there is a running/biking path next to my complex. Unfortunately, at nighttime, drug dealers use the tree-lined path as cover to do their dealing. It’s currently 5:30 a.m. and it’s still plenty dark. A run in the cool rain sounds nice. A stroll through the woods wouldn’t be bad. People don’t go down the path at night. You’ll be shot, murdered, robbed, raped or worse. It’s not wise. I found myself not caring. I was ready to go until…another panic attack. That one was uncalled for. It was out of the blue. What the hell is wrong with me?
My grandpa is sitting next to me. He is smiling at me like the last time I saw him as a little girl. Except, he’s different. He has the tux he was buried in, on. I remember him looking very handsome. I could imagine him in his dress blues….standing at attention. He’s still old as I remember but yet different. I wish I could touch him. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for one of his hugs again. To feel his arms around as a child again. I can hear his favorite clock ticking and see the elaborate bright colored vases decorating the different rooms. God…I missed him. Now, more people that I knew and have passed on are slowly filling the room. I want to get up and greet each one of them as I missed them all…I”m afraid if I move they’ll all leave me again.
I don’t want them to leave…