I woke up this morning, showered and returned to my room to find a flurry of text messages about the death of one of my closest friends from rehab this summer. I lost my shit.
I called off from work and had a couple of phone conversations with some more rehab people, discussing Jesse’s passing. I had evidently been keeping in closer contact with her than the others because no one I spoke with knew that (a) she had been broken up with her one-time fiancee for some time now and (b) that she had been drinking again, and unable to stop, for a while as well. She was apparently in a car wreck sometime in the last few days (I spoke to her last 5 days ago). I’ve been googling but have doubt no outside information about what happened just yet.
I contacted my mentor around 8am and then crawled back into bed, mostly not sleeping but occasionally getting some restless sleep for the next 5 hours. That ended when my wife reached out to me to invite me to the open eye meditation at the ashram tonight (I’m going; we’re meeting for dinner first). I sent a text to N also. I assume she has my number blocked and so have not been too surprised by the lack of response I’ve gotten.
I just got to the Alano Club about 30 minutes ago. I figure a meeting my get me out of my head. I stopped of at Dutch Bros. (for coffee) and Walgreens (for razors) enroute.
Three guesses as to what the razors are for (and the first two don’t count). As soon as I got to Alano, I went straight to the bathroom and drew three lines down the length of my inner left forearm.
I feel a little better now. It was good to see the blood and the residual sting is like a slow release valve for the psychic pain I’m in right now. I know cutting is ‘wrong’ but I am at the end of my rope with everything going on right now. I’m viewing my self-harm as a harm reduction measure right now, keeping me from going out, picking up a half gram of heroin and shooting up for what would be the last time.