Thursday, November 8, 2012

Pull the trigger

3.49 AM, Jonkoping, Sweden

Today's soundtrack;

Slipknot – Snuff

So break yourself against my stones  
And spit your pity in my soul  
You never needed any help  
You sold me out to save yourself

Dear diary,

I can't control myself right now, this is spinning out of control. I'm scared. All day long, and I haven't been able to draw a single breath without it feeling like someone shoved a knife into my chest. I don't know what's wrong, but something's wrong. Maybe my heart has finally collapsed under the heavy stress. I googled "chest pain" all day long, freaking out over all the severe conditions related to it, nearly all of them fatal if left unattended... what if I go in my sleep? I won't have time to write or call anyone, so maybe I should write a note, just in case... I can't even remember swallowing all those pills, and I don't know what it was. It doesn't say on any of the bottles. I can't go to the hospital, they'll lock me up and I'll go even more insane in there. Out here at least I can run from what haunts me, even though I won't get far... What I'm running from is inside of me, and I'll always carry it with me no longer how far I try to run. There's no escape, I've known that for so long. Accepting my fate is not as hard as it used to be, I know now that I'm heading towards the end. That's what all the books about my illnes says, that it drastically shortens the life of the patient, and that suicide is very common when left untreated. No treatment has ever worked for me. It's in too deep, it has become such a big part of me that it won't die without taking me with it. Whatever it takes to make it stop. 

I've no pills left tonight, only a bottle of Theralen. Gotta get some new ones tomorrow, really don't have the cash but I can't go without, it's a hell I don't wish upon even my worst enemy... I've found that no matter how hard I try to sedate myself, the nightmares won't go away. Somehow they push through the thick veil of chemicals, and come out the other side even more twisted and dark. And they're always the same. Scenarios of me being left alone, people leaving, people happy with someone else, and always her. Her face. Her voice. Smiling, happy with some other guy whom I can never compete with. I try to scream, but my voice won't go through, as if a thick wall of glass separates us. I reach out my hands, desperately wanting to touch her, hold her, but her back is turned and she walks away, out of my reach. That's when I wake up to find that my whole body is numbed by the pills, I can't move a muscle, and I lie there for the next couple of hours, unable to get up, and constantly drifting in and out of a weary sleep. 

You've brought this upon yourself, boy. Don't try to get someone to pity you, 'cause you ain't worth it. You really think she's reading this? Get real. She. Doesn't. Care. You're not in her thoughts, even though she's constantly in yours. She has new people to care about, people who give something back, something you can never do.

I hear ya. But somewhere deep inside, there's still some hope left that you haven't been able to find. I got the apartment. I'm moving there. Maybe we'll meet then and realize all of this has just been a bad dream. Or maybe not... I'd be happy just getting to hold her in my arms again, if just for one night. To forget about all that has happened, and just be us two together for a little while, and take that small piece left inside of us of the love we once shared and let it become real again, just for a little while. 

You're dreaming again. Pathetic wishes, like I told ya - get real. It only hurts worse when you realize nothing of that will never come true. Sure, you're moving there... but it ain't gonna help ya when she wants nothing to do with you. The sooner you realize that, the sooner we can end this show. And there's not gonna be a curtain call for you.

You're right. Curtains down, here we go... 

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