Today I was compelled to blog. For the past two years, I always feel it is necessary to blog on March 3rd without even realizing it, until WordPress congratulates me on my “Blogging Anniversary.” For a lot of people this may not have any significance. For me, indicates that I am mentally healthy. It means that I am not cutting, not drinking, smoking (weed, or cigarettes), sleeping (all day), or doing anything else that is my MO: self-destruction. If I am blogging, I am dealing with the almost anniversary of my friend’s death in a constructive way. This Thursday marks three years; three years since I saw her alive.
The usual guilt has sunk in, the sadness has been slowly seeping its way back into my pores; I can feel all of the revisiting emotions of her death. I miss her. I miss her little girl, who I have not seen in over a year.
I want to cut. I want to drink. I want to get high. I want to be numb. The problem: I never know when I am going to succeed in my self-destruction. I can’t take that chance. Instead, I will live because she cannot. I will live because she fought so hard to stay alive. I will run; I will blog; I will sit on a beach, and collect all of the perfect shells that she would be admiring if she were here. I will live because she cannot.