How I Really Feel.

Discussion in 'Rants, Musings and Ideas' started by downlikecharliebrown, Mar 7, 2011.

  1. I don't want to live any more. Imagine that, posting something like this on a suicide forum.

    I've been awake for about 36 hours now, which is not uncommon for me whatsoever. I'm supposed to be at work in 5 hours. I think I'll make it in.

    I pretty much made the decision last Tuesday. I was at the corner bar with my roommate. This is the type of bar where everybody knows your name (hey, like cheers) since I've been going in there steady for about 2 years. Sporadically at first, then almost daily, until recently when it became a daily event. The bartender on Tuesdays is this girl who I had hooked up with a few times at her place when she got off work, and then we kinda considered dating for a while. Well that was until I found out what a major flirt she was, and that I would have to compete with other guys to gain her affections. So I quit. Dropped out of the race and became cold and distant. I'm good at that.

    Anyways I went in there, and two other regulars were sitting there and my roommate struck up a conversation with them. I had said hello, but I wasn't really in the mood for much other than alcohol. Bartender girl came over and smiled at me and asked what I wanted and how I was. I just mumbled for a Guinness and a shot and didn't return any of the sentiment. I could tell this made her feel awkward as she went off to help the others.

    I sat there in silence as my roommate spoke with the regulars for what seemed like 4 beers and 3 shots give or take... I was contemplating work life and home life during all of this, and kind of phasing in and out of the conversation, although never saying a word.

    At this point I started to feel bad, but not really because of how I was treating bartender girl or the regulars. I really have no remorse for that.

    I started to feel bad as in, sucked in. Comfortable to the point of stasis. Like a liquid becoming a solid, at least that's the best way I can describe it. I hollered down for another shot, and I guess due to some leftover miniature affection she had for me she obliged immediately. Either that or I scared her. Either way, I pounded back another, finished my beer and took off without saying goodbye to the ex lover or my 3 friends who I hadn't even acknowledged.

    This feeling took over like it had so many times in my life, and I was hit with the swirl of pain and a tumultuous cacophony of voices and memories all at once. It was a completely overwhelming ordeal. Fear. Regret. Shame. Indecisiveness. Inadequacy. You name it.

    The biggest and most harrowing voice (although when I say that I don't mean a literal voice, I mean it more in a sort of giant thought bubble way) was the one saying "Why are you HERE?"

    That had always been the biggest voice. And in my past attempt it was the one I aimed to answer. The best answer I can think of for that question is, "I'm not."

    I knew when I was 12 that I was intrigued by death. It took me 4 years after that to be sad and desperate enough to try ending my life. Waking up with a pumped stomach and a room full of disappointed faces really didn't make me feel much better either.

    So the years have gone by since then. They "cured" me... I told them that anyway. And while I was truly happy for maybe two of those years, I've become an incredible actor in my time.

    But over the past 6 months the house of cards has started to come down.

    My fall and winter hours for my job were cut back severely. I can barely afford to pay my rent on time every month, let alone support all my substance abuse habits. I spend more time in that bar drinking my face off than doing anything remotely constructive.

    I never see my family anymore. I'm living in this tiny room in a house with two guys I used to like. In fact, one of them now triggers instant frustration just with the sound of his voice. I'm stuck with this lease until August. But then again, why pay bills the rest of my life anyway.

    I've thoroughly researched the gun laws in my city. I've saved up a little bit of money (what bit I didn't drink yet). I've considered even leaving things to people in the form of a will.

    I'm not sad. I'm almost emotionless. I'm surprising myself even, with this. It seems like yesterday I was a sensitive person. Now the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning is ending it. It's all I've been thinking about for 36 hours.

    "No dinky pills this time, Eric."
    <Edit MOderator Total Eclipse > method
    Last edited by a moderator: Mar 9, 2011