i wrote something yesterday,
not out of a place of sadness,
but looking out from where i am right now.
it felt good to let it off my chest.
i was actually at a peaceful place when i wrote it.
but at peace.
that is the scary part because i was in a zone of no fucks.
i didn’t cry when i really write something emotional.
i was good.
i just wanted to release.
that i did…
i can remember when i first tried to kill myself.
14 or so.
i was so depressed that i cut my wrists with a knife from the kitchen.
i came out into my parent’s living room,
covered in blood,
and my mother freaked the fuck out..
my father was somewhere in the crib,
but when she heard my mother scream,
he literally appeared out of nowhere.
after a long talk,
with a lot of crying,
i was immediately put into therapy.
it was “okay”.
it was an older snow wolf.
i talked; he listened.
i cried a few times.
he put me on pills.
it made me feel like a zombie.
a happy zombie.
i couldn’t cry.
i was just weird.
it wasn’t a good feeling and i wanted off,
but my parents urged me to stay on it.
after my mother died,
the health insurance ran out so i was forced to get off of it.
it felt like i was getting zapped with electric bolts every other second.
that lasted for a month or two.
there were many other suicide attempts after that.
i always felt alone,
even in a crowded room where i know everyone.
i had animals in my corner,
but i always felt like no one understood me.
add struggling with being gay to looking for love in hopeless places.
so my theory was:
What’s the point of sticking around?
i assumed i’d have more peace being dead.
why was i here,
my parents were both dead.
it seems like life was extra for me,
but a breeze for others.
was i supposed to kill myself?
those were my thoughts at that time.
i’m a lot stronger tha i use to to be.
i still have my moments tho.
that blow up/knock down fight i had with mi last year,
she texted me:
“i hope you’re not up there trying to kill yourself.”
i wanted to reply:
“bitch not for you”
…but i kept that to myself.
i still yearn for love.
i cry when i’m alone.
don’t even let me watch a movie where the hero wins.
hell i’ll bawl either way.
the foxhole has helped me find solace with strangers.
not just any strangers.
ones who are like “me” and navigate through this life.
i know i can come here and escape in this world i created.
i’m sorry if i had you worried.
that wasn’t my intention.
i wanted to express myself and be real about my current feelings.
you know i’m good for that.
lowkey: many of you were on point with your comments.
most of you hit the nail on the head.
God is still working on me.