5/23/17 Revisiting old wounds

I started my new job at the automotive plant near my house. If I do well in this program and graduate at school, I could get a full time position and finally get my own place. The one thing that I actually dream about doing.

It's kind of strange though. Besides one other person from GSCC, I was the only community college student in the room. Eveyrone else was from a big name public school, like Alabama, Auburn, Missisippi State, etc. Most of them seemed like frat brothers who knew each other. And we're annoying as fuck during orientation. They wouldn't shut up at all. I know that sounds harsh and judgemental, but honestly, that's how I feel. IDGAF.

I decided to revisit a somewhat...traumatic experience in my mind today. Something that's been bothering me for a while, even though it's been a month and a half since it happened.

At that time, I had not started therapy yet, or had started taking prozac regularly, and I was in a pit. A deep pit. A special kind of hell I never want to go back to.

In that hell, I felt nothing but emptiness, with the pang of anger and sadness. Some days I would snap and get irritable. Some days I would snap and just break down. And cry. Cry for no reason. Maybe it was stress, depression, both, I'm not sure. I never recieved a formal diagnosis from a psychiatrist, but I was given a low dose of prozac, so my guess was depression.

It got really bad just before I started meds. I came close to attempting suicide in my bathroom . About 10:30 at night, before I went to bed, I felt this intense pain in my head, An intense emotional pain. I don't even know what triggered it. The only thing I do know is that I remember going to my dresser to get my belt, and slowly walking towards my bathroom, tears rolling down my face.I remember standing at the doorway to the toilet for a full 5 minutes. Wondering if I should just...end it all. End this pain in my head. In my heart. In my soul.

I wanted to do it so badly. And yet...

I couldn't.

I looked at my sister's door.

I asked myself " do I want to make her see me in a casket being lowered into the ground?"

It was enough for me to put the belt back and crawl in bed. I slept like shit that night, but just thinking about her saved me from doing something that I probably would have regretted doing. But dead people can't have regrets, so I guess it wouldn't matter.

I'm much better today. I feel like the person I should have been years ago, But I'm not perfect. Not even close. I still think about suicide sometimes. I think about why I'm here, if I'm even worth anything, if anyone even loves me, or why I even exist in this time period. I get angry whenever I see people get hurt whenever people treat them poorly. I hate it when people get a label slapped on them because they're different. I feel like sometimes I'm just way too sensitive.

I guess it's a double edged sword. I feel the intense pain from these feelings and emotions, and it hurts so much, but then it also helps me understand people better. Even if not by much.

I hope one day I do meet that one person. Or at least my mind can take a vacation for once.