The song..

I remember everything that day.. the fight, the feelings of apathy from people who I thought cared about me, and the last song I heard before I went into my coma. The day started out normal with the exception of me waking up late and having to take a quick shower before class. My roommate made it well-known that she was pretty irritated by my actions because she wouldn’t even speak to me the entire day. I tried to ignore it, but the caring person I am tried to fix whatever she was upset about. When I came home, she was downstairs and I knew she was pissed off. I confronted her and apologized for whatever I did to make her angry. That’s when she unloaded. Told me about the shitty friend I was for taking a shower before class and making her late to her’s. It wasn’t my intention to be selfish and take a shower. I usually would be ready for class an hour before it started but I slept in that morning. We went on screaming back and forth at each other. Taking another jab at each other’s insecurities until her words cut me like a knife. She hit the wound and salted the blade. I went on ignoring the rest of her screaming while I tried to study for an exam but she kept carrying on. And I held on to every word that she said. Finally, her boyfriend came over and they left while I tried to keep my mind off of what just happened. But it was the all to end all. I didn’t think.. I couldn’t think about rationalizing anything. I kept hearing the fight in my head and my past failures that other people constantly reminded me of. Suddenly, I felt abandoned. I found out I had been alone from the start. Without missing a beat, I stared at the floor as I slowly got out of the chair, grabbed my keys, wallet, and my phone. I brought a very heavy dose of antidepressants and klonopin with me as I walked out of the house for the last time. I went to the nearest store and bought a large mason jar of apple pie moonshine. I can still see myself walking out of the store, into my car, and onto the highway. I sent a chain of messages to everyone I cared about letting them know no one was to blame for this. About 45 minutes away from home, I checked into a room in a Motel 6 with a hot tub. I figured if this was my way of going out, I might as well have a large enough bath to put me under in case I woke up from my coma. I set my phone on shuffle to a mixture of songs ranging from jamestown story to secondhand serenade. I tore up a phone book since I couldn’t find a pen to write a note on and made out the words “I’m sorry. I love you all.” After the tub had warmed up, I started downing the moonshine and mixing a cocktail of klonopin and antidepressants. After I had downed two bottles of klonopin and an entire bottle of buspirone, I let the music take me in. Slowly, the music started to fade and only echoes could be heard. “Is There Anybody Out There” by Secondhand Serenade was the last song I heard. Then I saw a bright light and woke up to a hospital room full of people. I had failed. And as I listen to the song right now, I’m reminded that I failed at giving up on life. And I’ll forever be reminded that everything I’ve tried to accomplish I’ve failed at.