1/7/18

This is a small note I’m making to look back in a couple years. I reflected on old messages and screenshots of the past year. I realized how mentally unstable I was and maybe it was the fact I never gave you the time of day to do things your way for once. I’ve been off meds for almost two weeks now and things circulate differently between this body when I look at my significant events in an outside point of view. I wonder what would’ve happened if you would’ve let me get better, or if you gave me the security I needed when I would have my “crisis.” Let’s not forget when you laughed in my face when I told you I wanted to die, I even wrote on my poetry page how I wanted to drive my car straight into the river. Drag my f*****g body, my mind says. I want to recover in the arms of the other, but my mind will always reflect on the what if’s. You’re right, I never ate your soul for breakfast: you did and maybe that’s why I’m having a tough time making these moments in my life now more meaningful.