My Fucking Mess Of A Life

Storms.

It's getting worse. This is the third one since I've got back, at least that I can remember. I only had one on vacation. It was the last day. Saturday night. I had gone almost a whole week with no break downs or attacks. It was relatively small. It didn't last long. Even so, I still walked around with an invisible dark cloud around me for the whole night afterwards. The next day we went back home. Everything was good. I can't recall completely, but I'm pretty sure I had some sort of small break down about a week after we got back. I think it was also on a Saturday night. I can't keep track anymore. I do know, however, that the next week, or last week, I definitely had a break down. Today is Saturday. Last Saturday night Mr and a few others went to a friends house for her birthday. She was having a party the next day. We were staying the night. I felt mostly fine the whole night and most of the next day. Until the party. It started out fine, but towards the end I didn't feel stable. I still had about an hour and a half to go. I forced myself to make it through. When I finally got home, I collapsed, physically and emotionally. I fell onto my small old bean bag chair as a tidal wave of tears and bad thoughts and emotions overcame me. I didn't even know why I was crying. I couldn't breathe. I remember my therapist saying that I should go to the hospital when I was like this in her office. I went downstairs and with my voice cracking I told my mom that we needed to go to the hospital. She asked me why before she looked at me but the second she did she came running over. I had been holding back so I could talk to her, but when she wrapped her arms around me, I broke. I was sobbing uncontrollably and my breathing had started to become erratic again. Small short gasps followed by me holding my breath until I couldn't. She asked me questions but I don't remember what. All I remember saying is I don't know. At one point she asked if I wanted to go for a drive. I said yes. She went up to get her keys and to tell my dad. While she was gone, I slid down the cabinets onto the cold tile floor, hugging my news and looking everywhere. I kept looking at the clock. With every minute that passed, I got worse. When my mom finally came down ten minutes later, I had thrown my glasses across the room and was laying flat on the floor. My sweater sleeves were covering my hands and I was biting my left hand right where my thumb joined my hand. I got up and my mom grabbed a water bottle. We walked out to the car quietly. I layed in the backseat while she drove around for awhile. At some point I sat up asking where we were. I asked to go to a certain street to walk around. We talked for a bit. It was nice. The next day we went to my old school so I could get my stuff and say goodbye to everyone. I hadn't been in school for awhile but I still had to do it. After that we went to the hospital. We ended up sitting and waiting a lot. At one point they took away my bag and phone. I was going to the psyche ward and they said I wasn't allowed to have anything I could potentially harm myself with. We did some more waiting. We both talked to people separately. I borrowed my moms phone to read. The funny thing in all of this is that I made two friends in the psyche ward waiting room. We all exchanged numbers. It still makes me laugh to think about. The second break down was Thursday. I had just showered. I was dressed and everything was fine. I didn't have any real reason to break down. It happened anyway. I just started crying and sat down on my floor, my knees to my chest. I sat there for about twenty minutes. During the whole thing, I was scratching at my left elbow subconsciously. When I finally calmed down and stood up, I noticed that the skin had been rubbed red and raw. It hurt. I couldn't wear sleeves or have anything brush against it. Sleeping was hard. The third and final break down I just had. This time it wasn't out of nothing. I was listening to my sister, her friends and my dad talking. They were talking about things like the cabin we rent in the summer sometimes and how it's close to Woodstock, and my sisters trip in Europe and many other things. Things that by all mean were completely innocent and normal. Anyone else who was listening would have just found the conversation enjoyable and entertaining. I didn't. The only things going through my head were bad. The cabin made me remember how my sister told me my dad was annoyed at me. I had decided not to go to camp this year for the second month and he was mad because he had been planning to go away there. Now he couldn't. Woodstock made me think of how my sister had much more similar music interests with my parents than me, especially my dad. Europe made me think of how much my siblings all have their lives together. They all may have had some rough patches but the rest of their lives were relatively fine. They all ended up okay. My life has always been a train wreck. It just gets worse and worse. Anytime it seems like its going well, it gets worse than it was before. I loved fourth grade. That was the best year of my life. I was the happiest I can ever remember being. Then it got worse. I hated fifth grade. It was one of the worst years of my short life. Not just in school but at home too. That's how my life has always been. The sunniest days were always right before a storm. I always feel so happy right before the clouds roll in. Sometimes it's just a drizzle, but mostly it's a thunderstorm. I hate those days. The days where all I can hear is the loud booming of the thunder seconds after lightning strikes. If I do hear anything else, it's the constant drum of rain all around me, drowning out everything else. The worst part is there isn't even any lightning. I like lightning. It lights everything up so I can see, even if it is only for a second. I can handle the thunder if I can see after the lightning. But these aren't real storms. These are only the worst elements of storms, leaving out anything I might have liked. It's just constant noise and no light to see in the darkness. I don't know where I am or where I'm going and I feel like I just want to curl up and wait for the storm to be over or until I drown. I don't want to keep walking. I don't want to keep trying. I just want to stop.

4/29/17