What will it take for me to wake up and smell the coffee? When will I begin to value my life? If jumping out of a police station bathroom window isn’t enough to set alarm bells ringing, than what will? I need to stop, I need to breathe then regain control over my life, I need to take a good hard look at my bruised palms and press them till it hurts, press those bruises until I wake up and realise that I may not be ok.
I need to realise that asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness but rather a sign of strength and that it shows that I am strong enough to raise my hand and admit that I need support.
I feel like I have lost so many things that used to make me, well me that I have lost myself, I’ve lost the essence that gave me life, that spark and drive I used to exude.
I haven’t gotten any answers from those bottles I sank, nor has it help me understand. Making fake friends only feels good for a night so if I repeat and repeat it then they won’t go away, right? Wrong, so wrong.
I guess when I am out drinking I can be anyone I need to be, a chameleon in every sense of the word and be surrounded by cool people and be involved in something, be a part of a situation that isn’t just being alone and as my hands begin to hurt as I type this, its only another reminder of that window drop, a drop into a trench that I couldn’t escape no matter how hard I tried to climb, unlike that trench I don’t want to escape life, I want to be alive, but I also want to be safe and in control. I want to live and not just exist through drunken blurs and dangerous turns.
I deserve more than I allow myself but first I need to take time to understand who ‘myself’ is because right now I’m not sure.
Right now, I guess I’m trapped somewhere between the old me and the new me, like Alice down the rabbit hole, trying any potion I can to get back to myself, lets hope I find the right one…