May 6, 2012

I haven’t been sober in days. Tomorrow should be interesting.

What if looking out over the lake has made me pretty? I’m not pretty but… I wonder if the things you see and gaze upon make you more or less beautiful over time.

May 4, 2012

I do not stop smoking. I maybe should. Life sober is no longer enjoyable.

I think I like older men. Like I really just want to go on a date with an older man.

I’m obsessed with innocence. I don’t think Jack should be a part of my life anymore. The last thing in the world that I need is someone that I’m obligated to.

April 9, 2012

My memory is weak and I can’t remember where I was, but I remember hands. A man who must have been a great deal older than anyone else in the room shook mine. His skin was olive and draped over his bones, wrinkled deep. The only way you can get those hands is by touching, and flexing, and stretching. How many hands did it take to make his skin fold? How many letters written, bags carried, doors closed, cars driven before he earned those lines?

Imagine the water inside his heart the first time he held his palm against the cheek of a woman he loved. Imagine his heart when he used them to make mistakes.

I look at my own hands– so tiny. One scarred only by the other, pleated only at the knuckles. They still have so much to do. So much touching, and flexing, and stretching. But I still don’t know if I will die by them, still smooth.

March 27, 2012

I cannot believe I did that. I just cannot fucking believe it. The shock has worn off.

I think Daniel and I are breaking up. I don’t want to but I don’t know what else to do. I feel like it’s my only way to move forward.

I have completely destroyed my own life and everyone around me.

no date – CW: suicide

On the 24th I took [redacted] and was hospitalized. Obviously I was trying to kill myself. I walked into the bathroom, opened the cabinet, and took out [redacted] as if it were completely normal, as if I were brushing my teeth. I took them back to my room and started taking them in handfuls. I don’t want to go into how I got to the hospital, I will just say that it was against my will. I got there and they used charcoal to pump my stomach. I wasn’t allowed to be alone at all, I had a babysitter 24 hours a day. I wasn’t allowed to go to the bathroom alone and they had to measure my urine to see if I was dying and I swear I got my blood drawn at least 35 times the first night. I didn’t sleep at all. I had never been to a hospital, or even to a doctor, so I was very afraid. I threw up black, and my ears were ringing SO loud, everything sounded muffled. They told me I would probably be an inpatient at Miller Dwan for treatment. I had to be on and IV for 3 days and they considered kidney dialysis but ruled it out when my chemical levels started to go down. Anything above a ten is considered toxic and I was at a 42, whatever that means. They probably saved my life. I wish they hadn’t.

March 24, 2012

My pocket knife was on the table in front of me, but I’m so sick of repeating myself. I felt it in my mind, across my body but I stood up and walked out the door instead. T-shirt in 40 degrees, my arm turned deep purple, jacket in 40 degrees. I listen to the Beatles because I know you like that band. I really do want to hold your hand again. The water curls on the rocks. Soft washing and loud sounds. I’ve always been such a fool for it. A liquid that won’t let you touch me like you did that night.

Sleep in the sun, before it’s gone, because it won’t stay, because it’s beautiful.