my recent blackout

I bathed in melancholy as I listened to this piece. It made me want to kill myself, immediately. It brought up so many hurt and despair in me I couldn’t bare. I left home. Well, not before I synced it into my music player. I went to my secret place, a small piece of nature surrounded by the big houses of my neighborhood. It was afternoon and the sun was nice on me. Everything was nice, because when you have cancer even the dickheads from the office can manage to swallow their jokes. I called my psychologist. She didn’t answer. I sat down by a tree, which I think remembered me, as if I sat by it only yesterday. Yesterday seems like a long time. Yesterday was 2 years ago, when my breakdown occurred, when I swam further away from the beach it was clear there was no turning back.

I popped 2 mg of Xanax, then 1 mg of Clonex. No, I didn’t tried to kill myself, just erase the feelings. Strolling in my neighborhood, I found a house that seemed abandoned. I went in. There were white clean tiles on the floor, leading to white clean walls. The place was a mess, actually. broken glass, old furniture laying on the floor and a bathtub that seemed old. I found some nails, hammers, and an ax, which I wanted to use it to bash logs to let my anger, or whatever I felt, out. Then a frightening man came towards me. I dropped the ax. He demanded my id. I asked him who he was. He said he is the owner of the house. I said I’m sorry and began walking away. He insisted to see my id and know where I live. I said I was waiting for my psychologist to call. He said it’s Saturday. I said she promised. I showed him my id and address and went away, as I apologized frequently.

Back in my secret place my psychologist called back, and something magnificent happened there – I started crying. It went on for twenty minutes. She asked me to describe the way I feel. It was like a mix of all the feelings in the world. I just said I don’t know. She asked what would help me right now. I said “water and a sweatshirt”. She told me to go home and get these, but I didn’t want to see or listen to any of my parents. Later I called my dad and told him to meet me at the end of the street with these things. He did. As I thanked him I began crying again. My dad was never around. It may have been the greatest thing he ever did to me. He hugged me and told me I can talk to him whenever and we headed different directions.

I went back to my secret place and from that moment I couldn’t remember anything. Later I woke up in my bed with my mom next to me and a box of pizza. I asked what had happened. She said I eventually came back home and went to sleep for three hours, until she woke me up. I ate some pizza and fell asleep again. I woke up at sunrise and I’m writing this. I am still lost.