My ConfessionAfter drinking three bottles of wine, I vomited all over my bed. That was a low point. Yeah, I got it. All right, I didn't quite finish the third bottle. I got a bottle at the convenience store by where I lived, finished it and went back over and got two more bottles. I was already lit at that point. I remember some woman telling me some story at the checkout. I don't remember what it was. Everything is a blur from that time. I was obviously drunk, I'm surprised the cashier let me buy it. Well, I guess it's business for the store and as long as I'm not causing any problems, what the hell, eh? I also went over to that same convenience store high a couple of times. That's all in my past. I bought tranquilizers from a co-worker at a sketchy company once. I overdosed generic ibuprofen while I was working at that company. I was on the job at the time. I stabbed myself in the arm with an ink pen, also on the job at the time. I called a man old enough to be my grandfather a piece of shit while working there. Like I said, it's all in my past. I don't work there anymore. I work at a respectable company now. When I was a kid, I watched my mom slowly degrade into the non-human entity that now resides in a nursing home. I haven't seen her or talked to her in six years. I don't miss her. At least, not what she is now. Sure, I miss the person she was back in my early childhood. Patterns repeat and this is my confession of imperfection. I could blame all my issues on my mom. I watched her dump ice cream on the ground and rub her feet in it out front under the shade tree when I was a teenager. She laughed as she did it. She always said she had depression. I dunno if its genetic or not, but I feel pretty depressed sometimes. I guess, in the past, I've just tried to numb it away. I've had suicidal thoughts in the past. After I stabbed myself with a pen, I was mandated to do therapy at work. Like I said, I did that on the job. I don't know why I did it. It just kind of happened. It didn't hurt at first, the adrenaline killed the pain. Then I laughed hysterically. Probably the adrenaline as well, I dunno. I'm not sure if this has any point. I know I'm being rambly. Life is a rambly mess sometimes. That's just a section of my life though. I had a good childhood. Sometimes when I go on the bus, other passengers come on with babies or kids. I look at them and think they're going to fuck up their lives later on.
Words by Thomas Perdue
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Written on 2017-06-22 at 03:14
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