Britney

“I LEAVE BEFORE BEING LEFT. I DECIDE.” –Jenny Holzer

I. I haven’t felt anything other than numbness and sorrow for weeks. It is easiest to blame this on the 50 mg of Prozac I must take daily. I smile but I feel nothing. My focus is gone. I fear for the fate of my mind. I am moving farther and farther away from who I used to be; in very few ways, this is good.

II. I miss my mother. I miss my mother. I miss my mother.

III. People tell me that I will never stop grieving. This is not reassuring. I do everything I can to escape from my own thoughts and it never works.

IV. I write in my diary every day. I write at least one poem a week. I am working on a second inflammatory essay. This disciplined writing is maybe because of the fact that I feel essentially nothing.

V. I make decisions that I regret on the surface but deep down know were the right ones. I have always had a fear of being the one left behind, being the vulnerable one, and so I leave first. This has helped me live, I’ve concluded.

VI. The end of the school year is approaching. I panic over grades and, for once in my life, long for college. I never thought I would say that but I am truly sick of living this way, of hurting my mind and my work daily, of being around people who make everything worse. I do not want this. ♦