I Woke Up Alive
10-18-06
I woke up alive. I feel God’s punishment. Unlike last time, I remember almost
every sickening moment. Just the mere thought of pills makes me gag. I remember
the throw-up, the heart pounding in my head and being to nauseous to speak. I
could hear everything around me, but could not speak. I remember all the
questions and answers I couldn’t give. Now I’m in a small room awaiting my
involuntary commitment to a state psychiatric hospital. My saving grace, I
think.
I have lost myself and now I’m left wondering if I’ll find my way back. Is it
still possible? Can I stop giving up on life and living? Right now, visions of
hanging myself dance in my head. Hanging will be my third suicide attempt. No
more Russian Roulette with pills. My body will be unable to go that route
anymore. So where the fuck am I? That’s what a very long journey will uncover.
And I am so scared. I’ve never been “here” before. I lost the once hopeful path
I walked. I kept tabs on every part of my wellness and I worked hard to stay on
top of everything. My meds worked and I had a kickass counselor to show me the
right path. I had friends that cared and a job I loved. Then I lost it all in
the blink of an eye. My life then lay in ruins. Instead of revitalizing what was
still standing, I gave in and let it all collapse while I just sat their and
watched. Once everything fell, I gave up and let death find me again. I’m left
here knowing that I am the one that let myself go. Does that mean that I am the
one to pick myself back up again? I guess I Had a choice to make. Do I sink
lower in this hold, or do I hold on to the sides tightly and crawl my way back
to the top?
I just saw the petition for involuntary treatment. What does long-term treatment
mean? How did this happen? I used to be so afraid of being crazy, yet that’s
exactly where I have ended up. All I can seem to ask is why or how. Is this me?
Or is this just me when I give up? How will I ever find my way back? How do I
enter back into a world I gave up on? I had a life- a good life and I threw it
all away to be crazy.
Time takes on new meaning when you’re crazy. I spend my time watching the clock,
thinking to myself, three more hours, or five, or two, or whatever, until
something more than TV watching happens. Last night I would close my eyes and
only pray that when I opened them again it would at least be the next hour. I
did that over and over again for hours. I’m living hour by hour. I know in five
days I will finally get to the hospital. But before the days, it is only the
hours.
What have I done?
What is my truth?
