I wonder what it is like to wake up in the morning feeling truly ready to live. To open your eyes and welcome the sunlight, instead of lying there eyes shut hoping that you can just sleep the day away. I marvel at what it must be like to feel ambitious and sure of one self. What life is like without all of this fear and anxiety? I have spent this past week hiding. In almost complete isolation. When my phone rings I cringe and my stomach knots up, often it is turned off just so I do not feel the shame for not answering it. It takes me until late afternoon to even find the energy to shower. Then afterwards I end up back in my pajamas knowing I am not going anywhere, seeing anyone. Not even myself, I avoid the mirror. I comb my hair, but forget about styling it and it is usually left untouched until I wash it again the next day. My face is fortunate if lotion even touches its surface. By now my cheeks are just used to the stinging of my tears. I feel hopeless and lost in these four walls, but to step outside is beyond my grasp. I am weak. I know this now. I have used my love for Tim as a power to keep me alive, but when he is not here I am far from even existing and even if he was here now, I think it is even too late for him to save me this time. The irritation I feel for him at the moment, there is no reason for it, but I just cannot let it go. I hate him for always trying to help me, for saving me time and time again. For constantly asking me if I ok, for even caring. People try to reach out to me, but I come up with excuses to stay here, alone, but not lonely. Even though the voices in my head can drive me mad at times, they keep me company. I attempted to make a friend this week, one that I could actually see and touch, but when numbers were exchanged and meeting times were discussed I retreated. Knowing in my heart that she is better off without me in her life and that I better disappear in the slight chance that she might actually like me. I know she deserves an explanation now, but what do I say? Sorry I cant meet you because I know I know what? That shell see how crazy that I am? How pathetic, unsure of myself, and confused I am? It has been a long time since I have had a friend. I mean sure I socialize, but only after liquid or a puff of courage and Tim close to my side. Without it all I can muster up is a squeak of a hi. So what am I sayingthat without Tim, without alcohol, and without pot that I am unable to live? Thats how it feels. As every day slowly passes I feel myself becoming more withdrawn. That ache for happiness and a fun filled life becomes smaller. I find myself slipping away, giving up. My Effexor bottle untouched, my Xanax bottle empty, and my BuSpar bottle back out of the drawer where it has been sitting unused. I find peace in my pain and calmness in my solitude. I feel no need to do anything and have lost the ability to care. My children often creep into my thoughts, but I cannot find the liveliness or the bravery to pick up the phone and call them. This is all that brings me guilt now. I feel none for letting things get messy, for the food that I eat or dont eat, for pushing Tim away. I find myself trying to find a new excuse for my Mom not to come by on Tuesday, for me not to have to drive to Redding to pick up Tim on Saturday. Is this is what rock bottom is? When you lose all desire to live, to exist, to even breath? When you do not even care who you hurt in the end, because all that you can think about is an end? I am the true meaning of failure and weakness. Even though I want an end to this, this life, this hurting, and all this confusion I would not even know how to begin to end it. I have tried in the past and I know that failed attempts only make matters worse. I do not know what to do. Every day seems to last forever. I try to lose myself in books, music, and TV, but in the end all I want to do is sleep and never wake up.
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