Last night I drank alone again. Hadn’t done that since last winter when I was so depressed I was having suicidal ideation. One night driving back home on the freeway from my college I had this sudden thought “What if I just drove off the road and died instantly… it’d be the perfect solution. My family would think it was an accident, I wouldn’t be hurting anyone but myself and I’ll finally be free from this hell I’m living. Really it’d be better for everyone, no more expectations, no more worrying.” That was probably the lowest point in my life, last winter. My sister had cut me off completely. Couldn’t believe her boyfriend would molest me because it just “wasn’t in his character” and I must have been “dreaming and got confused”. I kind of understand, she had just had a baby.… but.. to not postpone the wedding or even consider it. I mean he had sent me a porn link over facebook when I was 13. And even texted me saying it “wasn’t fair” that I didn’t wear a bra around the apartment. But, yeah, that’s just coincidence right? He didn’t mean it like that. …Anyway, you could say that had part to do with my unstable mental state. I mean, she was my idol and basically raised me. And then to suddenly shut me out, I was heart broken. I felt like dying. I wasn’t getting good grades either as you could imagine. I felt like such a disappointment to my family. My boyfriend at the time was also mentally abusive and would cut me down, call me names, use me for sex. Threatened to kill himself if I ever left him. I stayed for an entire 6 months. I kind of hate myself for that. How stupid and niave. Then around that same time, my older brother gets into meth and makes me drive him everywhere while he’s high. (No fucking back-bone what so ever.. jesus.) Nearly killed me pulling out of a driveway into traffic going 60 mph. So…..everything was fucked to say the least. I must say though, I’m doing much better than I was this time last year. Last year I was drinking a glass of vodka every night, sobbing listening to Elliot Smith on repeat, and smoking cigarettes out my window, staying up till 5 in the morning.
Now I’ve gotten into therapy. Richards his name. He’s around his early 70s. He’s helped me realize I’m a perfectionist, idealist, and have extremely high standards of myself. I’m self-critcizing myself all the time when it comes to grades, social acceptance, and my future. It’s part of the reason why I’ve started self-sabotaging again I think. I started procrastinating on my work these past two weeks and letting my grades fall alittle. Which I’m getting high marks. I’m in Phi Theta Kappa for fucks sake. I have a 3.925 G.P.A. So this shouldn’t matter! But, in my head I’m letting things slip now because it’s not perfect. I think some illogical thought I have is that if I get a bad grade it’s only because I did it last minute and the idea that I have to be prepared or perfect before I can just simply start studying or doing work. It’s just absolutely ridiculous. Yes, logically and intellectually I know! But, my irrational side is just letting it pass. Lately I haven’t been taking care of myself so to speak. I think I’m punishing my self for not getting the best grades and having my major figured out. So, I haven’t been taking my vitamins, cleaning my room, or getting good sleep. I distract myself at every possible turn by researching or becoming interested in things that shouldn’t be getting my attention right now! I have work do to! But, to go back to main point of all this. I drank last night. Whats this mean? I’m destined to go down this self-destructive path? Something thats just encoded in me? Or can I break this bad pattern? It’s not like I’m depressed like I was last year. What the fuck is wrong with me? Do I find comfort in depression and self-destructive behavior? Well, I see Richard tomorrow morning; maybe he’ll have the answers.
“Smith died on October 21, 2003 at the age of 34 from two stab wounds to the chest. At the time of the stabbing, he was at his Lemoyne Street home in Echo Park, California, where he lived with his girlfriend, Jennifer Chiba. According to Chiba, the two were arguing, and she locked herself in the bathroom to take a shower. Chiba heard him scream and upon opening the door saw Smith standing with a knife in his chest. She pulled the knife out, after which he collapsed and she called 911 at 12:18 pm. Smith died in the hospital with the time of death listed as 1:36 p.m.”