Yeah, Thanksgiving was hard. I found myself sitting in the bathroom, thinking about which way would be the easiest and least painful to die. I was having some pretty big issues with medication. I called a friend, figured some shit out, and went on to eat too much. Thank you, Friend, you know who you are. I felt so lost, alone, and dark and I could NOT get out of my own head. They told us in rehab that, “our heads are like a bad neighborhood. Don’t go there by yourself.” Mine is Cabrini Green, and I think someone is dealing drugs in there.
I feel pretty bad about it now, and I am scared by the power of certain medications that are designed to help. I’m back to my normal stuff and I am hopeful that my brain chemicals go back to normal-ish. Sometimes I think about all the years of my life stretching before me, knowing that this will probably happen again, and I feel pretty daunted. I don’t know how to live with this in some ways. The other part of my brain understands the gift that depression and addiction can be. Creativity, kindness and empathy, and self-knowledge all come from my troubles.
Sometimes, though, I think I’d be okay with less of that stuff if I could just have a little less emotional/intellectual chaos. Jus’ sayin’. (Hear that goddess????)