I’ve been depressed for a long time. For reasons I won’t get into on this site. There’s nothing I can do to change it. There’s no where I can run from it. I can do my damndest to hide it from the world. But eventually, it catches up with me.
In recent months the depression has gotten worse. I’ve become emotionally and mentally unstable. I have lashed out at friends and family. My job performance has declined. And I’ve become far more bitter and miserable than ever before.
I have been careless, seeking out and oftentimes partaking in risky behavior. I’m fiending for all the old drugs I used to do. The pills, the heroin. I just want to not be awake. Don’t even care if it kills me.
A while back, I got an idea to take a vacation. I’d be away from home. This is where I’d go all out. Go crazy. Party like I’ve never partied before. Go to a rave and bring some chick back to the hotel, because it’s more dignified than paying for escorts. Probably wouldn’t have sex, because that’s just not me. Lots of cuddles. Then again, Molly might just have that kind of effect on me. One last cuddle. One last moment of slight happiness.
Then for the grand exit. I’ll send her on her way, because that’d be cruel for her to wake up next to me like that. Whatever drugs and alcohol I can find. All of them. Go crazy. Never wake up.
The week will be like the final scene of the Bob Fosse musical “All That Jazz.”
I’ve planned and plotted this out. I’ve slept on it for weeks, and I keep waking up knowing this is my set plan. It’s always on the back of my mind.
I’ve been to the doctor, and he’s put me on Lithium. It doesn’t seem to be helping with my depression or other mental issues. But I wake up, and it doesn’t seem like the plan as much now. It’s more of an option. I guess I’m back to debating whether I should or shouldn’t. That’s for me to decide, not you, not doctors, not my family or friends. Because if I want to do it, eventually I will.