I hate the smell of blood after it lingers in the air for some time. The metallic smell throws me off, and there’s only so much I can do to the room. I shower and scrub myself. I spritz the room with half a bottle of air spray. I take out the trash. I clean. Yet it feels more like I am cleaning away my disgust than it does the remnants of bodily waste.
The ritual feels like second nature after not doing it for so long. Like another pair of hands are guiding me through, helping me, caressing me through it. The meltdown. I’ve had nothing but them for weeks now. And the sensory overloads have been obnoxiously draining on my body.
I’ve always been interested in the ritual. And particularly, when my mind feels like it’s had enough. Like a big meal. Like a milkshake. My mind always knows when enough endorphins are rushing through my system. And combined that with the vicodin and the melatonin/valerian/L-theanine combo, I felt really fucking high.
And for the first time in months, I felt good. I wasn’t happy or sad or angry or overloaded or stressed. I felt calm. The ceiling fan swished around, humming as it does, and I felt relaxed. The struggle to hunt down medical supplies throughout the house was worth it. Someone gave me an unused razor blade at work, and I stuck it in my book safe months ago. It finally had a use.
I haven’t felt the same since the fallout with the improv company. There were a few people in the group who were bullies, and then one day the gunned after me. Only I called them out on it, and a fight ensued. It led to deeper issues, ones a few of us had been facing for months now. This was our group, our lives, our money, our time. Letting it be overrun with insecure assholes was not the answer. So they left. A lot of people left. I wasn’t expecting loyalty to fall to the bullies. I suppose people can’t see through others’ bullshit if they can’t see through their own.
I haven’t felt too creative since then. And I’ve been having a harder time at work. They just promoted me to team lead, but I don’t want to be there. I don’t enjoy surrounding myself with people who are so miserable they like making others miserable. I don’t like being told to settle on my dreams. And I can’t find another job. And the interviews I have gone to, I open my mouth and say shit. It’s hard to do anything in marketing when you continually call out bullshit.
I’ve been trying all day to get some work done since I have a day off. But I haven’t. I’ve been scouring tinder and okcupid a lot. I’m close to finding a hooker to just watch television with. I don’t really know what I’m doing anymore. I just want to get high again.
Loading comments...