The day usually starts with a loud blaring alarm.
Then my heart drops in a drop akin to how your heart feels just before the first drop on the big rollercoasters. Only that this time there is no jovial under or over layer, a large dark void fills the space that excitement once filled.
I reluctantly get up and out of bed, hoping some debilitating illness befalls me before I reach the bathroom. I giggle at the ridiculousness of praying that a stray shower spray goes up my nose and drowns me. I mean we all know a drop of water can kill you.
This is suicide ideation I will not deny it, nor downplay it. But these feelings hit me at very specific times. Every morning before work. Showers wash this away and give way to nothingness.
The drive to work usually soundtracked by loud blaring music.
It doesn’t matter what I listen to, it replaces any thoughts or feelings that might have instead occupied my mind.
I get to work.
I sit in the car park to the very last minute. I gasp as I leave my car, it feels like I have entered a fishbowl, its filled just below the point of where I can breath freely, when the fishbowl tips in a particular manner I can breathe. But for the most part I am constantly trying not to drown, my nose filled with the stench of humid dank chemical water.
15:59.
Relief and a little disappointment that I have to do this again tomorrow.
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