It may be goodbye

Dear bri, all I wanted to do was write a private pm about what I am facing. My internet wont work and I don’t have the stamina to fight the cable company and have it re-set. I guess this is god’s way of saying this should be a blog. I have been in a deep depression. I was in denial. I couldn’t face my biggest fear and I blamed the problem on a lack of support. I didn’t want to tell anyone what I was facing.

I sucked it up and wrote some important people in my life a warning. I couldn’t tell my female best friend. It would hurt too bad. My depression was so deep I wrote one of my best friends from high school begging her to write me back. All she could say is ‘what’s wrong, how have you been?’ She has asperger’s and such little ability to express emotion it startles me. But I had to tell her what was happening.

I explained I am fighting for disability and I can’t earn a documented income as a cam girl. Life has been a nightmare with my mom out of work. It breaks me that I pawned all of my aunt’s jewelry. It got worse when we had no money for car insurance. I was driving her car and I got rear ended hard. The person who hit me hauled ass. The collision knocked me into oncoming traffic. Like a race car driver I weaved through the intersection having one of the worst panic attacks of my life. My mom lost her mind that I crushed her car and we had no insurance. Times have been so hard. All this time I have been joking we have been eating diamonds and gold. When I wrote my friend about what was happening I had to tell her my mom attempted suicide. She had to have eaten fifty bars of Xanax and I have no clue how she survived.

I made a huge decision to sell my ford escape. The repairs to her car cost five grand and my car was only worth three grand. I was devastated I couldn’t fix her car. Instead we have used the money to survive. It has been really sad. There are a few funny stories how we have schemed to survive. I entered a state of mania and came to terms with two options for survival, panhandling and sucking dick for money. I coped with a future as a beggar and a whore.

I knew the real problem but I couldn’t face it. There is a reason I blogged about my life instead of pumping out erotica. I made a few friends here that deserved to know what kind of woman I am. I wrote with a manic urgency without an explanation. Most of all it was a letter to dave. He has captured my heart. I couldn’t tell him that time was a factor. The troll mocked me that no one read my blog. The truth hurts. I refuse to look at those four comments knowing one is his making fun of my lack of support. Dave has been sick and busy and he missed the chance to find the theme in my work. It hurts like everything else.

Tonight I had to hit him with the truth and he will be in denial. It was time to explain myself. I started with a letter to my male best friend brent. I am so bi-polar it is off the charts. The main problem with the illness is the inability to sleep. You can never know how lucky I have been. I tried many anti-psychotics to sleep. Only one worked. It is brand new. It was designed for veterans with PTSD. It dissolves under your tongue and you fall into a deep dreamless sleep in less than ten minutes. I wouldn’t be so screwed if I didn’t need a dose strong enough for four psychotic people to sleep twelve hours.

My shrink is good to me. He allowed me such a high dose and provided me with free samples. One dose is eight hundred dollars a month. I require four doses each night. This medicine has given me a life. All good things must come to an end. Right as the mania hit I picked up my last box of free samples. I was told to contact the manufacturer and ask for assistance. I know what will happen to me. It will take months for the manufacturer to send me pills. No way in hell will they send me enough medicine for four people. Those blogs about my real life were goodbye letters.

It hurts to say goodbye and have other people look away and say nothing. When I wrote my letter to brent and dave I tried to prepare them to lose me. I am a chemical equation that will no longer exist. I have tried so many other anti-psychotics. They do not put me to sleep. I lay motionless in a state near sleep. I will not hit a rem cycle. sleep deprivation is one of the worst things you can imagine. I can last five days without a rem cycle. This has been a life-long problem that has gotten extreme as I have aged. What I had to prepare brent and dave for breaks my heart. I go insane.

The hallucinations are so intense. My body reacts with hives and itching. I do not eat or drink. I lay very still convinced sleep will happen. I leave the bed to pee. I can’t speak or think. The biggest danger is my brain fixates on suicide. I get so tired death is my only concern. I have to tell both men goodbye while I’m still coherent. I have to push them away and prepare them both to lose me forever. My mom is in major denial like I’m just facing the chicken pox.

She will suffer the most. I enter rages with no control of my behavior. She will enter a constant suicide watch she can’t handle. I have been through this before. A lot of people don’t realize one of the easiest ways to commit suicide is by drinking five gallons of water. You can remove all the knives but stopping me from a death by water takes constant supervision. The urge to sleep is so great you don’t care who you hurt. I am praying for a miracle. I am not giving up. I will not be able to write, chat or talk. I will not be coherent. I will be insane. My misery will be so intense I am unrecognizable.

All I can promise the two men I love is that when I go insane and get suicidal I will baker act myself and go to an asylum. Only a hospital will be able to put me to sleep. I will probably be gone a long time. It happened to my aunt. In a public asylum I will be surrounded by deranged psychopaths. They will easily take advantage of me while I am d**gged. It happened to her. My fate is no different. I had a really great life. There are miracles. I tried to love and support as many people as possible. I tried to explain what a strong woman I truly am. I still have hope. Strange things happen to me and I am protected. Yet I may never be happy again. I may never write or make art again. Without my sleeping medicine I will go insane. I am not a drama queen looking for attention.

I hid the truth as long as possible. I wanted to be loved. I wanted to tell my story. I found acceptance and peace. I will write about my life until I am incoherent. Tonight will be my last night of real sleep. Then the battle begins. No one wants to say goodbye. Good people do it even though it hurts. We wait until the last moment. We hide our pain. We push people away so they don’t suffer because of us. I will probably never be the woman I wanted to be. Even knowing this was my last week with medicine I worked through the anguish to share my story. I am drained. The depression about what I must face is too much for me. I could get lucky and my shrink could have more of my medicine. I could get lucky and he could have samples of something more potent. When you think it is your last night to be alert there are hard letters to write. I’m sorry you had to read this and it may be goodbye.