I told my only family member it was time for me to stop. The only person in the world who knew me. He said at least try acid once.
I dosed and became one with the Universe and all that shit. I felt something fall off my shoulders afterwards. I got an understanding of why I survived the first eleven years of my life along with him surviving the first twenty.
-We weren’t meant to survive right?
I got a hippy ass perspective on why there’s scars on my genitals that I can’t explain to a doctor.
It lasted about a month until I was drugged and raped in a sad and rather fishy situation with a boy I was dating and his “best friend”.
I had a beautiful goddamn pharmacy, shame it was time after i stumbled home the next morning to use it for ending my life rather than healing.
I filled a large chevron drink about halfway or so with it all.
-The Universe was telling me it was time right?
Why else would i get raped again in my adult life? No justice again. I just wanted to go home. Then you broke the door down because the cats, my little girls, were crying and yowling. I wake up screaming in the middle of the rape kit. Then they checked me in the looney ward for a week. I had to participate in groups and put on a face that I understood that ending my life was not an option so i could leave and get high at least i was good at that.
You fucking told me you couldn’t do this life without me. Then barely three months after my failure you get to go home, during a celebration you got to leave me here, happy.
Without the weight of the possibilities of right and wrong. You got “taken”. Now i have to be here with this alone. Completely, actually, “literally” alone.
-Its gotta be a cosmic sign right? Cant think cant work cant fake it just hoping the universe shows me what way will actually work/succeed. Just want to go to sleep and go home.