There’s a number of ways this post is going to go and things I want to talk about that I’ve been thinking about. But it’s all just going to be one giant rant in the end of how much I want to kill myself. First, I’ve been beginning to notice once you’re 21, your life is over. There’s such a big difference between each year until that age. “remember when we were 16 and we used to do that?” We’re 18 now. Those 2 years make the world, but whether you’re 30 or 35, there really is no difference. That being said, I feel I have lived out my life for what it’s worth. Life could be tolerable I guess if things hadn’t turned out the way it did. I fucked up my life getting a DUI. I regret it every second, and I stick to my word no one understands why I did it, that I could not control the events that occurred that one night, but none of that matters because what happened, happened. I wasn’t scared to call my parents from the station when it happened. They knew I was going through a lot, hence they brought me a new radio/stereo for my car the week prior when I was home for Spring Break after seeing how ripped up I was from a boy I mistakingly thought cared about me. I’m starting to realize they could not hate me for what happened, but that doesn’t mean things won’t be different. Everything wasn’t just going to go back to normal. I’m starting to feel as if I’m not trusted anymore, all the independence I gained while at college from my parents was reverted. My parents aren’t that proud of me anymore. There’s a scandal in my town at home about a cop who went to the wrong house by mistake and ended up shooting and killing their beloved pet. On Facebook, I signed & shared a petition to get this cop fired for lying and doing what he did. After getting into a debate on it with someone, the owner of the dog actually added me and commented on my side, which I felt was extremely rewarding, being an animal lover and pre-vet student. I called to tell my dad and he was more on the lines of “you shouldn’t be going against the police.” Don’t stick up for what I think is right? I know my dad is paranoid and didn’t think I should because somehow people are going to find out and I’ll go to jail for having an opinion. I don’t want to be part of a world where I have to bite my tongue and submit to authority. So I called my mom to tell her, and she tells me that not everyone is an animal lover like we are and also kind of put me down, when I called them over something I was so proud of.

Being a pre-vet student takes me to my next point. I work my ass off in school to maintain a 3.5 GPA. I can do well in my classes, but they’re not honor classes. I find out for vet school, I need 600 clinical hours in order to apply and a 3.8 GPA. I can’t do that, and I don’t want to do anything else with my life. It justifies the fear I’ve had for years of being “better than average but never quite good enough.” Wanting to be a vet is what forced me to maintain my grades through high school regardless the circumstance, the only thing that really mattered to me, more so than my wellbeing. I know I’d make an amazing vet, but the fact I’m judged based on numbers upsets me. Anyone and everyone who knows me can easily see I have “a way” with animals, just by the way I interact with them and how they respond back. Being a foster home for the past 4 years has really proved this point. But the fact I probably won’t get into vet school is just shitty. I don’t want to be in a world where my worth and dreams are determined by standardized numbers.

Third, my freshman year of college is over. Everyone says how freshman year is the best year, you make amazing, friends, you’re carefree, can afford to party every weekend, and everyone always misses it. I’m scrolling down the Facebook and Instagram posts of people I went to high school with, justifying this exact thing. What has my freshman year consisted of? I haven’t made really any solid friends here. I rarely went out on weekends because going into a sweaty, hot, crowded frat party to drunkingly hook up with a random wasn’t my thing, and the only other option on a weekend night to do was to lay in bed and watch netflix, or maybe study some more. If this is the “best year”, then what does that mean for the rest?

Fourth, I started therapy recently and she helped me realize I have no hobbies besides school work. I spend at least six hours daily studying and doing my work, that I haven’t had time for anything else in years. I don’t have any real hobbies anymore. Nothing that really makes life worth living. The only thing I really enjoyed was drugs. I’ve never had a problem with drugs. I’ve tried a lot of different ones, but mainly just stuck to smoking weed. I rarely drink, alcohol is really heavy on the body, makes me feel out of control, and often puts me in a bad place. I don’t want to say “instead of drinking” I smoke weed, because that’s not how I see it. I see it as part of wellbeing. I’m a very anxious and stressed person, given how much school work I do, so it’s nice to just sit back and relax without the pressure of never doing enough looming over my head. I stress about how I don’t deserve that extra hour to just do nothing because I could be studying and trying harder. Instead, my worries go away and I’m able to just enjoy myself. I admit, I smoke a lot. It’s really beneficial, and when I started smoking every single day helped me get out of being suicidal and overall was a healthy coping mechanism. It did not interfere with anything, I maintained my grades and got everything done that had to be. It was especially good when I would get really upset. Similar to having the “why the hell was I suicidal, life’s not that bad” mindset that brought me out of my “depression” or whatever you want to call it, it would tell me whatever was upsetting me would pass, and most of all it would calm me down. I’m prone to panic attacks and when I get upset, really upset, it throws my body into a fit of hyperventilating and not being able to see straight. Smoking relieves this and returns my body to homeostasis, gives me time to process what’s happened, why it happened, or what made me upset. Now, I’m about to be put on probation for a very long time. In a way, I’d say smoking weed had become my hobby, so my only “hobby” is being taken from me. It’s understandable, I have to live up to the consequences from my DUI, but it makes me wonder what I will become. If I’m not able to calm down, not able to enjoy myself, or rationalize with my distorted thoughts, what am I suppose to do? Smoking helped me bond with my younger brother; after years of fighting, we would smoke together and just enjoy being with one another, being we were old enough and outgrew the sibling bickering and competition. Smoking helped me bond with my parents. They liked that I rarely drank, and smoking with them was always fun, though it didn’t happen often.

I really wonder what’s worth it and what’s not. I don’t want to kill myself because I don’t want to hurt the people around me who love me. But I know I’ve disappointed them and don’t care to go on anymore. I can’t see much positivity in the future. I’ve been relapsing again, and my therapy stops when this semester is over in a week since it is through the school.