where i've been
it’s been a while. longer than i meant it to be. i kept opening this page and then closing it again because i didn’t know what to say that didn’t make me sound insane, or worse, honest. nothing big even happened at first, which is the worst part. there’s no clean reason for why i disappeared. i just stopped checking, stopped writing, tried to go back to something that looked normal from the outside.
i signed up for classes again. community college, nothing impressive, just a couple general ed things i should’ve finished a long time ago. it feels weird being back in a room like that, listening to people talk about deadlines and group projects like it matters. they're all old, or at least i can see it in their eyes. but i nod, i take notes, i leave as soon as it’s over. it’s like watching a show i used to like but don’t remember anymore. i think it’s helping, or at least it’s distracting enough to pass as helping. eitherway it keeps dads mouth shut.
speak of the devil, haha.. family stuff came and went while i was gone. nothing dramatic enough to explain, nothing small enough to ignore, just the usual cycle of things almost getting better and then not. nowadays he just sits there with the tv on and the volume too low like he’s scared of hearing something else. i’ve been around more because of it. trying to be useful, or at least present. he's getting old, like a dog. it's a sad sight to see. i'd be lying if i said it didn't fill me with a feeling i cannot explain. one that only sinks into my stomach and chest when i'm laying down at night, staring at my ceiling.
but whatever. i started seeing a doctor. or at least i went in for a check-up that i've missed for the past 3 years and i left that office with a prescription for SSRIs. that felt worse than anything else, honestly. like admitting something out loud that i’ve been avoiding for years. like signing a paper that says yeah, something’s wrong with me. and i didn't even fucking say anything. they gave me some stupid chart test and i just ticked higher numbers i guess. i feel like an idiot. i should've known. but they help, i think. or maybe they just flatten everything out. nothing feels as sharp, which is good, but it also means nothing feels as real either. it’s hard to tell if that’s progress or just a different version of the same problem. eitherway they wake me up every single day at 5 am sharp for no apparant reason. and they've made my dreams so vivid that i wake up thinking they're real. maybe i should start a dream log, but i'm worried that'll tell you more about myself then i want too.
i’ve been listening to this song a lot. “sometimes it gets worse.” it’s not even that it’s especially happy, it just… pushes things in a direction that feels lighter than everything else. like it forces my brain to look somewhere a little brighter, even if it doesn’t stay there for long. like a stray patch of sunlight that illuminates one area. i’ll put it on when i’m driving or walking to class and for a few minutes it almost works. like i could just keep doing this, keep moving forward, keep pretending everything’s normal until it actually is.
the real shit
the hum never left. i know, i know. i really thought it would once things settled down, like it was just tied to stress or sleep or whatever explanation i kept forcing onto it. but it’s still there, just more patient. it shows up in places it shouldn’t now. i hear it walking between classes sometimes, low and steady under everything, like it isn’t coming from anything at all. i tried to see if anyone else noticed, but nobody reacts. nobody even pauses. it makes me feel insane in a way that’s hard to explain. like am i a fucking schizoid? idk i don't want to get worked up about that right nowi haven’t gone back. not physically. but i think about it more now than i did before. the road past mile ten, the sign, the way it looked in the daylight. it’s stupid. it should just be a place. a goddamn location. a fucking metal stick in the ground with an ugly fucking metal sign. but every time i try to focus on something else, it’s there again, like something staring at the back of my head, waiting for me to notice, waiting for me to get the guts to look behind me finally.
the other night i dreamed about it. not even a full dream, just the sign. same angle as the photo, same washed-out light, but closer than it should’ve been, like i was already standing right in front of it. it's hard to explain. but it felt human? i mean the sign was still a sign but the way it loomed over me. something inside of me was screaming that it was human. when i woke up the house was completely quiet. no fridge, no pipes, no wind outside. just that hum, louder than i’ve ever heard it before, like it had been waiting for me to wake up.
i think it wants me to come back. i don’t know how else to explain it without sounding completely gone, but it doesn’t feel passive anymore. it feels intentional.
i think that’s why i’m writing again. if something happens, if i disappear or do something stupid, at least there’s a record of this. something that says i didn’t just wake up one day and decide to walk into the woods for no reason.
i’m not going tonight. i’ve got class in the morning.
but i keep checking the weather.
clear all week.