Dear Diary,
I know you haven’t heard from me in a while. It had to be at least four months that I was silent, right? After a bunch life’s of beatings, I had my internet disconnected, so I couldn’t blog much. I’m still without internet connection in my apartment, but now I’m using the one at the library because I’m afraid if I stop blogging, I may stop breathing.
I guess you can say I “relapsed” again; far more than I did when I was writing regularly. (I almost forgot what got me into writing this diary in the first place.) I cut myself so much that I’m surprised I have any blood left; I just want to be finished with it already. (Or at least that’s how the evil voice in my head feels.) Anyway, I’ll get right to the update because the library is going to close in ten minutes.
Simply put: my life has hit rock bottom and if it ain’t rock bottom, I’m darn near close. One day, as I was leaving work, I heard some co-workers talking about how 300 people were going to get laid off the company that we work for, including ten people from our unit. Although I wanted to know more, I brushed it off and tried not to think about it. A week later, me, along with nine of the workers in my unit, were called into the office. They had refreshments laid out and the boss’s eyes were red like she had been crying. I already knew what was up.
“You have a month to find another job,” she said.
Well, a month has passed. I never found a job and I’m unemployed. I sacrificed my cell phone (which was easy to do since I rarely spoke on it), cable, and my internet connection (although I haven’t found the strength to sale them off yet). I even cut out some foods from my diet so that I wouldn’t buy much from the grocery store. No more pork, red meat, juice, cookies, or candy.
My co-worker turned best friend, Brittany, was one of the “lucky” ten, as she was laid off as well. I’ve grown attached to her like a sister, and her kids were starting to become my kids. However, our relationship was cut short as she picked up and moved to a small town in Georgia to live with her aunt in order to save up more money. That was a hard blow on an already exposed wound.
Now, here I am at the library sitting near some guy wearing red sweat pants and a dirty brown hole-graced shirt who smells of whiskey, urine and pickles, arguing with some unseen entity who stole $5 from him. Oh, snap. Now he’s yelling at me. I was just about to get up and move to another computer until the security guard came in and saved the day.
I guess this adds onto the craziness I went through earlier: on my way into the library, some hood rat, out and about with her friends, complimented on my shoes. I replied, “Thank you, so are yours,” but I guess she didn’t hear me because she copped an attitude:
“Rude much? Ugh…siddity heifer. You might want to go get your ends touched up before you start acting all brand new…”
Now keep in mind that I’m currently unemployed, I apply for jobs everyday and none ever calls back, I risk losing my apartment in the near future, I have no friends, I have no one to love me, and I’m about to snap. I was slightly heated with a little adrenaline rush, and not even the wind blowing against me softly could help me keep my cool and ignore this woman.
I replied to her calmly, “I’m actually transitioning into something you’re mentally not, thank you.” She didn’t hear me though. People always told me that I needed to talk louder when I spoke.
Tags: depression, laid off, struggles, Suicidal Jasmine
