I've been to this place many times. I'm not sure why I started visiting. I do know back in 2011I took a picture of the empty street at night. The view is calming while at the same time disturbing to the core. I go up here to think about a future without myself in it. I fantasize about jumping, about the brief moment of clarity and that instant yet agonizing stop at the end.
Suicide is my constant companion. I fight with the impulse every single waking moment and a lot of times in my sleep. I can't remember the last time I had a dream about something other than dying. I'm kind of used to the constant howl inside my head but lately it's gotten...worse? Maybe it was just less noticeable before. I swear I had dreams of better things, beautiful things.
I've been trying to occupy myself with music and art. Problem is that I'm pouring all of my hurt and frustration into my work and it is serving as a magnifying lens for everything bothering me. I'm constantly reminded of the pain inside my head. I suppose I always have used art as an outlet. Problem is lately it seems like the more I try to quantify my emotional state, the less it seems anyone is able to understand it. Fuck, I don't think I understand it.
I'm fighting an enemy I don't understand. I'm feeling things but I don't know what things I'm feeling. All I know is that it mostly just hurts. Joy is painful and I'm not sure why. Has it always been like this? Am I just noticing it now that my mind isn't clouded with drugs and trauma?
Speaking of drugs, it's odd that even when my mind is gone, suicide is still there. I'm not sure if it's the same thing, though. Maybe it is and it isn't. Another way it seems like I'm living in a paradox.
Maybe this is me reaching out for help. Maybe this is just another message of awareness. I don't know that I'd be able to even talk about this with anyone. I write about it because in a brief, fleeting moment, I can actually make sense of it.
I still have no idea what I'm feeling.
