Remind you not to forget to remember me.

Something seems wrong. I guess it could be a combination of many things, but to be quite frank, it’s never felt this wrong before.. My choices are catching up to me, and I’m scared.

I was thinking about random things inside my head the other day; A story came up that I haven’t thought about for quite some time, and I thought I’d give you a bit of an insight into my mind by telling you the story.

I must have been nine or ten. My mother and her boyfriend, Ares were still in a kick of drinking and smoking. My mom was sitting on our back porch, and a rat showed up. She screamed, and oh man, if you know my mother, you know she can scream like no other. But in the end, we figured out it was someone’s pet rat, so we put her in an empty fish tank with a screen covering it. I never slept at night; I have a sleep problem, and I was scared of Ares. I was up reading yet another lengthy book when the sound of scraping awoke my mind to reality. In the living room, I just stood in front of the cage, watching this rat move around. I lifted the screen and set it on the side. Something about her, I just kept staring at her while she fucked around in that tank. I didn’t expect anything crazy, but when she jumped up on the side of the tank, I felt my heart jump up my throat in fright. I eventually got her back in the cage, put the lid back on, and went to back to my room to read.

To be honest, this story doesn’t hold very much importance in my life. However, it reminded me of the fact I didn’t sleep much when I was child. It also reminded me of the reason I didn’t sleep. I haven’t had a big nightmare in some time.. I don’t know if I’m waiting to wake up in tears, or if I’m dreading it. The piece of myself that I thought was missing, the piece I found after my trip? I strongly believe that piece of myself was the piece that allowed me to be thoroughly happy, no matter what. In the past sixteen years, I’ve seen things that I never want to think about again, let alone see or experience. I’ve felt different lately, more elated. It doesn’t mean I don’t feel lonely anymore, it means I’m not thinking about ending it all; It means I’m not thinking about the past as much, it means I’m not trying to think about what I’ve done wrong in my life. Honestly, I just feel strange when I’m by myself, such as the moment now. I’ve just been listening to ‘Lapse – Envy on the Coast’ on repeat, and the television’s on; I’m not paying any attention to the tv, but it makes a slight background noise that makes me feel like I’m not alone. Being alone is an interesting thing. Most people can feel at ease, know that they can act like themselves entirely. I don’t feel happier alone, I don’t feel more depressed; I just feel unloved. When in reality, I know some people do love me.. Maybe this stems from the fact I’m still single. I kind of hate being on my own; I like it when I can be with someone, when ever I want. I’m stingy about love; I want people to love me, and only me. This is unrealistic of me to think or want, but when it comes down to it, that’s what I want. Can someone love me, and only me? That’s really all I need. I just feel the absolute need to be adored.

I recently met a couple of people who use meth. I’m only familiar with the man, who doesn’t ever feel the effects of the drug. He just smokes it for the idea of smoking something. It makes me want to jump on top of a building and scream and yell about how it’s completely irrational of him to smoke this shit that can harm his entire body and mind, when he’s not even getting high of it. Eh, I guess people make their own choices. I’ve never seen anymore smoke meth before, I’ve never held meth in my hands, I’ve never seen the glass pipe that’s used, I’ve never offered up my lighter for someone smoking it, and I’ve never smelt it in the air. The thing that is most wonderous to me is the fact that I wasn’t bothered by the fact my companion was smoking meth. I kept sucking down those cigarettes and talking about things that didn’t make sense, coming out of my mouth to a stranger. I never was scared; The gut feeling I get in bad situations never came up. It was like I was watching myself sit there, and I bent down, and patted myself on the back for not wanting to smoke any. Pride is always a good feeling, right?

I haven’t eaten in days, yet my stomach feels full and satisfied.I know I’ve lost weight, I even know how much weight I’m losing. Whenever I throw back a Valium and a small drink of a liquid, I feel the cold flowing into my middle. I can imagine the traveling on the pill, down to my stomach, where it can metabolize and make me feel better. I’ve been waiting for the wake up call that tells me to get my life straightened out. But when I think about it, I don’t know what to do to straighten out my life. I suppose I could stop smoking cigarettes like they’re going out of fashion; I suppose I could stop drinking like a fish when I’m surrounded by the people I adore the most; I suppose I could quit taking pharmaceutical medication that isn’t prescribed to me; I also suppose I could stop smoking pot. Honestly, I don’t see any of this happening like that, and then me, becoming some ideal citizen. Sometimes, I’d like to be that person walking down the street, with a family to return to, with a schedule to follow, with a goal for living.

“And no, I’m not afraid, at least not to die.
I’m afraid to live and not remember why.”

I don’t want some fake sympathy, I only want the real thoughts, the real stories, the real reactions. If you’re bored and you love me, maybe you can try to help save me from myself. Maybe you can tell me that my life isn’t ruining anyone else’s. Or maybe you could just tell me you love me, and mean it.