A Sober Death
As I stood there gazing out of the window at the blue sky, and the not so colorful brown buildings, I thought about how my life had been a sweet rollercoaster of ups and downs. I thought about how the future seemed so sweet yesterday and completely empty in this moment. My eyes wander left and right, trying to avoid the tears that had weld up in them.
Why do I like the feeling of tears streaming down my cheek?
I wondered how I had gotten to this point, left hand clutching a full bottle of 91% isopropyl alcohol, and right hand white knuckling the cap. I feel extremely thirsty. I stop to think about if god would be mad that I have made this decision to clock out of my shift early.
“Isopropyl alcohol is also extremely irritating to the digestive tract. Drinking a lot of it can cause vomiting, diarrhea, pain, and bleeding in the stomach and intestines. This can lead to dehydration, low blood pressure, shock, and coma. Rubbing alcohol can also be toxic when inhaled.”
I had about 16oz of this stuff so I was sure my decision wouldn’t be met with disappointment on my end. Well, technically nothing would be met on my end, which was the point. But all of my friends, family, my cat?
I look over at her and by some sort of magic from the universe, or hades sick timing, she’s lifts her kitty head and stares at me.
“Shit, she knows. She expects her wet food later too, well fuck.”
A wave of guilt crashes my pity party. But just like the tide, it goes back to where it came from.
It’s amazing how one sentence can mean so many things. Yesterday I told myself to be brave and meet with my new life coach. Today I am telling myself to be brave and accept the fact that maybe I didn’t want a life in the first place.
I DIDNT DECIDE TO BE BORN. WTF IS THIS SHIT MOM? DAD? I DID NOT SIGN ANY CONTRACT.
My eyes shut themselves so tight that my teeth hurt. And before I can tell myself to, my head had swiveled back around to again stare out of the window, this time at the dirt crusted to the glass.
As my eyes took their time zooming in and out of the brown spec like a camera, but brain was running through thoughts like crooked radio static. By this time in my life I knew what dark corner I sat in up in my skull space. Its that same place that little 3 year old girl sat while the real Lauren threw a tantrum in the isles of Wegmans super market. Its all those times in college when I said “No.” and they chose not to hear it. Its that one time he told me he would never love me again.
Hopelessness, fear, abandonment, self hate.
“FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!”
I pick up the phone and hit “Mckenzie Otra Vez”
The next 3 or 4 minutes are a complete blur. Tears, confusion, overwhelming anxiety, panic, and immense fear. 4 hang ups, 3 missed calls, 5 call backs.
Thank goddess for that 5th call back. (Thank you.)
Maybe it was my anxiety that ordered the recall on the suicide martini, or maybe it was the fact that I knew my cat was going to need her wet food later….
I stood there, shell shocked from the sheer emotional workout my mind had put me through. Since my first hospitalization for a melt down, my life had morphed into something completely different. I was not that same person, I was not cowering alone in that dark place in my mind. I was RUNNING trying to find the light, calling out for help. I wasn’t comfortable there, and it wasn’t a place where I could let go of my emotional responsibility to myself anymore.
I paused and looked out at the blue sky again.
What would all my tantrums at Wegmans been for? All those moments I had stood up for myself and told people to fuck off? All those times I learned lessons, discovered new meaning, new places, new dreams, For what? For me to just end it now? Drunk off of self hate, in my one bedroom garden level apartment in Denver?
What a lame ending.
It made me realize,
I definitely want to die sober.