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So I haven't posted here in a bazillion years, even though I created the damn group. Life's been hectic, what can I say? I feel like a little venting and rambling and I don't really care about grammar right now.
Just to ease any suspicions, no, I'm not high or drunk or anything, just a lonely soul in need of a little validation, I suppose. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to go on about stuff as it comes to mind. This is definitely and flotsam and jetsam post. Kind of. I guess.
I feel lost. As if things have been slipping out of control for some time now, but have only just come to a head. Since none of you know most of my goings-on away from the computer (mostly because I rarely update, and when I do, I'm all kinds of cryptic) but I had a slight mental breakdown a little over a calendar month ago.
For serious. I was in a bad way. All my friends seemed to be disappearing on me. Just up and not talking to me anymore. I couldn't find a job to save my life. My home life was rapidly splintering. My life turned into living proof of Murphy's Law. Everything that could go wrong, did. My car died, and without money to repair it, left me fucked.
So, one night, I find a little vial-type-thing from last summer, filled with about 30 little pills. Which I later found out to be klonopin (just in case you don't know). Anyway, throughout the course of the night, like in the second hotlink there, my memory is rife with holes. And most of what I do remember didn't actually happen.
Apparently I got in my stepdad's car. Apparently I went and picked up my friend Sharde. Apparently we went to Wal*Mart; drove two towns over in one direction, then drove two towns over in the other direction (in the end going to five towns, 4, 3, start, 1, 2). Allegedly, in Wal*Mart, I started hiccuping and couldn't stop. I didn't stop for about a day and a half. I remember lying in bed, feeling miserable and trying to fall asleep hiccuping.
Anyway, Sharde was arrested because I accidentally bumped into her arm, distracting her. She ran a red light. I couldn't drive. They called my parents. They came and picked me up, a town over, and the rest of the week is nonexistant. I have no idea what happened.
After cowering over the toilet for several hours, the next thing I remember is, presumably, five days later. I felt fractured, broken. Throw a rock at a mirror. That's how I felt. I'm walking around town, almost sobbing because I'm so miserable. I walk up to a friend's house, apologize for being the way I was. For every slight I've ever comitted, through action or inaction.
And then I ran away. Two and a half hours later, I wind up at a homeless shelter where I spend the next four days, reassessing my life and just focusing on me. I make loads of friends, significantly cut back on smoking (before I left, I was on about 2.5 packs a day) and became happier.
When I came back, I find out that all my former friends are now avoiding me. I'm told that everyone's scared for me. They don't want to be around me anymore, now that I'm crazy.
But that's all a month back now. I'm back in the substitute teaching thing, a few people are back to talking with me. I haven't touched anything to alter my state of mind. Is it possible for people to have a second chance? Am I redeemable?
(x-posted to my LJ)
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axntalonhawks
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