It takes a moment to acclimate, to get used to the idea that I’m still alive. I didn’t die. I’m still here, somehow. I had thought I was just dreaming.

Is it possible to co-front a lot with someone?

The past week was manageable. My girlfriend has made it so much easier to come back to reality and deal with life. She definitely made me smile and laugh, helped me feel back at home.

However, last night, everything came flooding in, seeping through my pores. The thick depression, the emptiness, the void. I’m scared that I’m actually dreaming, or in a coma.

I’m paranoid. I see people and shadows flash in my peripherals. I’m beginning to hear voices but I can’t recognize any of them.

It’s not all awful….I know well the grass blades you mention…the furniture you have placed under the sun…

Still, I find great comfort in the bridge- as if I am resting and conversing with the souls that didn’t survive the jump.

Sunset over Suicide Bridge

I’m floating in this limbo. It’s better than hell.


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