Monday, January 16, 2012

Got connections?

PSST!  Hey you!  Yeah, you.  You look like you know how to have a good time, do you know where I can get some peace?

If there is someone out there whose got a source, can you ask him/her/them to supply me with a little bit of peace?  I'm good for it.  If they're all out of peace, a coma will work.  I'll do anything.  ANYTHING!  Just let me know what I'm supposed to do and I will do it with everything I have.

Right now it's taking everything I have just to exist.  Right now, I'm really lost.  Right now, it's hard to breathe, literally and figuratively and every other way possible.  I'm trying so hard to get my act together and become a functioning human being.  It might not look like it or sound like it from my blog, but I really am trying.  I really am working so hard. I DO want to get better.  I want to feel like I can make it in life, but sometimes the hope of that possibility is more painful than trying to accept defeat.  It seems like every time I make the tiniest step forward, a giant piano falls out of the sky and squashes me flat.  I'm trying so hard to get down the block, to go forward, but I'm so afraid of the next piano that's going to land on me that it makes it so hard for me to move.

This time it's a pretty big piano.  No, it's a HUGE fucking cathedral sized pipe organ.  I'm trapped and flattened under this enormous weight with 20 thousand pipes screaming in my ears.  It's too heavy to breathe and it's too loud to think and it's so very very dark.  I have no idea how to get out from under this thing.  I feel trapped.  I can't think because all the answers terrify me.  All the answers disgust me.  All the answers make me feel repugnant and dirty and just all around fucking sick, like literally sick.  I am the human version of a high school urinal, stained and crusted over with crystallized filth.  I will never come clean no matter how much I try to scrub it off of me.  There was more to my meltdown on Tuesday night.  So freaking much more, but I haven't been able to share it with anyone except one other person, and I really surprised myself that I said anything to her.  I was surprised that I was even able to say the words without crying or getting sick or hyperventilating.  I'm am not sure how to process it and I'm terrified.  I've made reports online and over the phone, but I'm too ashamed and mortified to talk to someone in person.  I don't want other people to know.  I don't want to show other people.  I'd bleach my eyes and my brain if I could just to make it all go away.  How am I supposed to face someone with this?  I can't.  I just can't.  It's too hard.  It's too gross.  It's too fucking heavy.

Right now I'm questioning every memory.  I'm going through every childhood photo I have.  I'm constantly checking myself in the mirror, looking for and scrutinizing all distinguishing marks on my body.  I've been a little difficult for friends to get rid of this week.  I stay way too long or I make it hard for them to leave.  I've been a bit of a barnacle, latching onto anything I can think of so I don't have to think about what's waiting for me.  So I don't have to be alone in the pitch black darkness under this fucked up, out of tune, pipe organ.  What happened on Tuesday was fucking crazy.  I've never had that kind of a meltdown before.  At least not one that I made public, I guess.  Still, I'm not sure I've gone that far before.  No one in my real life (other than my therapist and doctor) even really knew how bad I was feeling when I overdosed.  I am usually really reserved and secretive and I seriously lost it on Tuesday.  I am surprised I wasn't assaulted or arrested.  I probably deserved both.  It was all just too much for me and I snapped into pieces.  I'm not so sure I'm strong enough to lift this big ass thing off me so I can pick up the shards and glue them back together again.  I'm stuck.  I'm scared.  I'm repulsed.  I'm pretty fucking devastated.  

Is there anyone out there that can hook me up with their peace dealer?

I respect your spiritual beliefs and practices, but I'm not looking for religion with this entry.  Trust me, I've tried it.  Please don't send me a bunch of emails about Jesus and/or your deity of choice, although the Flying Spaghetti Monster is pretty tempting right now.