Chapter XI

What a funny thing it is when words simply come to life, although I deserve nothing good. I have more stories behind these pages to tell and if you were ever reading this. William, you would be appalled. I have last determined I cannot overcome my addiction and the cysts and malignant tumors in my body is a hidden lie. I have broken many hearts and promises within these last three years I cannot even count. I have lost so many friends and I cannot speak to them. I am diagnosed with anemia and my BMI is below average; so my doctor diagnosed me with "anorexia and manic depression". Really? Is that all you can f*****g do doc? Diagnose me, lie to me, take my money and run. 

I am a nursing student and I am determined to be a nurse practitioner to be able to actually help people before it is my time to go. I will never give up on saving lives, even if it kills me. All this ties down to is me taking my own life into my hands and wanting to die every waking hour of my life. It has nothing to do with you, but it is just the fear that I will not live long enough to be able to be with you or see life long enough. I hoped and hoped that the smoke came down from the chimney clogged my arteries, blinded me and I died as I sat in the hot bath cutting myself almost every time I had the chance to. Klonopin after Klonopin it all drove me insane as I mixed it with the hardest liquor I could find. The euphoria is so great it could beat any adrenaline feeling I have ever felt. Being on stage belting out tones of a broken soul saves me for one day but what about the next? Would I mind dying that way? No. I am still determined and alive but I have a fear I will be sleeping in Bethlehem soon. One day we will cross paths again before I die, and I could feel it. It is pretty close and if I could even cherish a few years with you I would be happy to die that way. It is too late for me now, William, I have a disease and it is called addiction. It caused me problems physically and mentally. Unfortunately, my brain will never be the same again, neither will my body. So why do you think there is hope I can stay sane? I won't. I would rather rot in euphoria than live in agony, especially if I could spend it with you. I refuse to take anymore antidepressants and I will not stop doing what makes me sane even if it kills me. 

The beauty of this world, its awe and journey is what is still keeping me alive. These letters, these words, the words I write the words I sing to the small town of Cheyenne pushes me through my day. You inspire me to do better but one of these days you may save a life and you don't even know it.

Augustine