I remember a time when I walked down the hills of my old campus, and people would greet me, say “Hey Jay!, What’s new? Want to smoke?” And I would, and I would stay in a corner of someones dorm room, staring at a wall. The TV would be on, and then it would be late, like five in the morning. I remember these times, not as good times, or bad, they are just recollections of the kid I used to be.
After that kid died, and he was no longer a kid on campus, but more of a lonely wretch who ate alone, where once his mind was empty, now was forever jumbled, forever contradicting, fighting itself. Then emerged the new me. The new me. What ever that means.
I dealt with my depression and my mania, and the pyschitzophrenia, the hospitals, the lost friends, the worried faces. From one day on, I was no longer anything but a ghost of my self. Today, I reawoke the ghost.
Last night, I fell asleep without my cocktail of pills. I left one out, because it ran out. I woke up feeling great! Energized, ready to take on the treadmill, that I had forgotten about, at a gym where I once went. And I felt good. It was nine o’clock before the day began. I decided it would be a good day. I was going to make it a good day.
I noticed today was the job fair at the Radisson. I went. Mainly it was a bullshit experience, but more over, it was a wake up call. There were men and women all dressed in their finest suits, about three hundred of us. All of them looking for a job. I don’t know about the rest of them, but I felt rushed. One company would have a line of 12 people waiting to talk to them. I would be one of those 12, and to make things run smoother for the sake of the line, my interviews only lasted long enough to find out I wasn’t qualified.
While talking to the people I tried hard to show a lighter side, I cracked stupid jokes, maintained eye contact, and suppressed each try at thought broadcasting. It wasn’t enough. I left feeling miserable. On the steps of the Radisson, I lit a cigarette, and headed towards government center. I dropped off a resume at a publishing house, and left in fear that they woudl call security on me. I don’t even get it, I was dressed in a blazer and a shirt and tie. Yet, I still felt like shit.
Today, my dad called me, he has been talking to my grandma. She is much older now, and unfortunately I am afraid the only time I’ll see her is when she passes. That makes me sad. It makes me sad to think about my dad losing her.
I guess I’ll end this with what really makes me sad. What makes me sad is that I miss my old self. I miss the days when I didn’t have to take medication. Now, if I miss one day, I am a complete mess. A ghost of my former self. Keeping down the enemy in me one med at a time.
just another jagged thought by Jason