SchizoPolyGymnast
Elementalist
- May 28, 2024
- 838
Six years ago today...yes, Valentine's Day...I got fired from a job of six years for an angry social media post I made while manic. Someone had given me roses just hours beforehand. I was in a cafe when I got the call. I remember what the guy said during the call too. Separating you from employment and all that.
I cried a little but mostly I was enraged. And I just sat there, kept getting more enraged, not able to focus on anything else. Feeling like Esther wiping her runny mascara in the movie Orphan. And the plan started. I could just kill them, right? I have nothing left.
I thought about getting a gun at Walmart but I knew I wouldn't get much fire power with that. I was better off waiting until I could get to a gun store. I had the money. I knew where they were and their schedules. Why not?
I didn't buy the weapon. I stewed on this for awhile, until I was exhausted from feeling this way and I called crisis. We ended up meeting at my home and everyone agreed I needed psychiatric hospitalization. I asked what would happen if I refused. They said they would get the police involved. No thanks. So I went. And honestly I was happier there than I had been in a long time. And when it was over, they ordered me a taxi and dropped me off at the parking lot where my car was.
Congratulations. Welcome to your new life. Good luck.
And six years later...I don't feel like I've changed much. I was really hoping I would have more of a success story than this. Surely there is more to me than NOT being a mass murderer, right?
At least I didn't have to go to work tomorrow, right?
I'll order dinner and maybe do some makeup. But in some ways I feel just as empty and lost and I did that night. And I'm not sure what to do in that case.
I cried a little but mostly I was enraged. And I just sat there, kept getting more enraged, not able to focus on anything else. Feeling like Esther wiping her runny mascara in the movie Orphan. And the plan started. I could just kill them, right? I have nothing left.
I thought about getting a gun at Walmart but I knew I wouldn't get much fire power with that. I was better off waiting until I could get to a gun store. I had the money. I knew where they were and their schedules. Why not?
I didn't buy the weapon. I stewed on this for awhile, until I was exhausted from feeling this way and I called crisis. We ended up meeting at my home and everyone agreed I needed psychiatric hospitalization. I asked what would happen if I refused. They said they would get the police involved. No thanks. So I went. And honestly I was happier there than I had been in a long time. And when it was over, they ordered me a taxi and dropped me off at the parking lot where my car was.
Congratulations. Welcome to your new life. Good luck.
And six years later...I don't feel like I've changed much. I was really hoping I would have more of a success story than this. Surely there is more to me than NOT being a mass murderer, right?
At least I didn't have to go to work tomorrow, right?
I'll order dinner and maybe do some makeup. But in some ways I feel just as empty and lost and I did that night. And I'm not sure what to do in that case.