You're the only one I can talk to, so please forgive me if I begin to be my dark self.
It's getting more difficult, every day.
going off the meds is something I'm getting 2nd thoughts about.
Each day gets a little less sunny, a little less full, a little darker, heavier.
My laugh lines around my mouth are getting deeper. I find that to be a completly cruel joke as I'm doing anything but smiling or laughing lately.
A smile upside-down.
My stomach is expanding - combination of bloating and blockage.
I look like I am 4 months pregnant - another irony.
Empty womb - empty space. I lack any kind of glow.
I am beginning to hate my body.
No, loathe is a better word.
Loathe all that is inside of me, all that I've lost over the years, and all the extra weight, skin, years that wait for me to stop running and finally stand still.
Empty
empty
I can't even carry myself
empty
empty
I got news from the dude in NYC - he got his big break. CEO of a new company. He's starting at 85 000. He's going to pick up his company car on Friday. A Mercedes. He's leaving to go to Peru Tuesday for two weeks, then off to Vegas and California - 2 weeks each in November
For business.
He was at the 2007 show last week. Another high profile event the week before.
I could not be happier for him.
He really honest to God deserves it.
I told him to remember me when he's rich and famous...
We both laughed
but I died a little inside.
I am so close to giving it all up - all the dreams and visions of a wonderful life. I've waited, and waiting now is too painful. I feel as if I must resign to a mundane quiet boring existence in order to keep myself alive. I can't reach for the stars anymore. I feel as if I have to let go of all those dreams because reality is here - slapping me in the face, kicking me in the head.
And it hurts so much. The man says he understands, but I know his dreams died a long time ago. I have an extra 20 years of hope I have to work off. It's not easy to let go of those things - the older you get, the stronger they become your lifeline - reason to live.
For you, it was to have a family, finish your film.
For me?
My dreams have become a trivial antidote to a sad and crumbling existence. And what I'm holding on to, as my body begins to withdraw and brain spirals into a free fall, I wonder how long I can last.
Those scars from my breakdown are becoming irritated again - as if to remind me, perhaps you'll be more successful this time, that slipping away won't be as painful, but will seem more like a kinder gentler option.
I am starting to crumble, and I have never felt so alone in decades. And it's freaking the fuck out of me.
I don't know what to do,
or
if I should do anything anymore...
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