I had had some difficulty trying to plan what to write for this first blog post. This first day, the 700th. I guess now though, from the rock bottom (so far) of my day, I can say many things.
I’m not over him. Or at least my obsessive mind isn’t. Someone thousands of miles away who is still pulling the strings. If somehow, I find the energy later to look at cars and practice driving, I will imagine him in every car that I see, and it is enough to make me say “Fuck you” to driving and bundle myself up in bed, demanding my prescription of Xanax. He will never read this, as far as I know, he is now ambivalent or less to my existence. Maybe I wish he would, that he would find out somehow, and actually care how suicidal I am. But I know that if I imagine that, I am only fooling myself.
So I’ll listen to the most loud and energizing music I have on my phone in the hopes that I will summon the energy to go out later. Not at all because I want to, but because it’s a way to pass the time, and maybe I’ll fall asleep a little quicker tonight.
This is day 700 and I can’t wait for them to be over.