Thursday, 23 June 2016.
Its relapse time. My second time in this hellhole pit has proven it self to be worst than the first time, I kinda expected it to but I was naive enough to think I could fight it.
Breakdowns keep reoccurring, constantly going from an all time high to the deepest of lows, just two days my brother finally caught a break, he applied for a Music Course and got in, they wasted no time in telling him he was accepted. This is a HUGE deal for him he hasn’t done anything for himself for about five, maybe six years. He has an illness called Crohn’s Disease which affects his digestive system and if that wasn’t bad enough because of all the pills he takes life rewarded him with the bonus of cirrhosis to the liver, which in layman terms means his liver is slowly dying and he’ll need a transplant very soon. All this had killed his motivation for the most basic tasks, pretty much anything that required the smallest of effort was never an option, but he had finally found the courage to do something he loved and for once fate was on his side and he was rewarded. The joy that I felt for his success was overwhelming, it may not seem like such a big deal to the average person, I mean when you think about it, its like the littlest step but for him to take it was like conquering Mount Fucking Everest. The whole day I had spent it alone at home, which is rare but I kept myself distracted. I cleaned the kitchen, I vacuumed and tidied up the living room, I cleaned my bedroom and even had time to play some Xbox and watch TV before mum came home. By the end of the day I was still distracting myself so before bed i decided to exercise but when I was done something came over me.
I felt numb not physically but emotionally. I knew what was happening because it was exactly like the first time, but i tried to push the thought away but nothing helped, the music I was listening to had faded out and all I could think was…Death.
How to go, different ways to do it, i even had all i needed in the room to do it, there was a knife on the floor from all the dishes i had yet to take down to the kitchen, alcohol and all kinds of pills in the room, everyone was asleep and wouldn’t suspect or hear a thing ..i could just disappear. Fighting this battle with myself was so exhausting that i began to cry, tear after tear after tear, there was no stopping or else it was go time. To minimise any further damage i quickly wrote up a status on Facebook telling people i was going to disappear for a while, little did they know that “disappearing” to me could have meant on a permanent basis but to keep any suspicion away i added a sarcastic remark to reassure anyone who cared for me, that i was just being my stupid self.
Now I knew the way my depression had run its course the first time, i tried to stay social but it seemed to do more bad than good, so my tactic was to go the opposite way, antisocial. I was already antisocial as it was but there were a few friends who have been deemed loyal and i was lucky to have in my life, but with this relapse happening i had to steer clear of anyone i loved. I took two extra pills to try calm down but it was taking its time to do anything. Finally after about two hours of no stop crying, my eyes had no more tears to give or so i thought.