The Hidden Sickness

I think the greatest sin is dishonesty.

But it’s tough to be straight with yourself. It’s even tougher to give your true self to your friends and family. We live in a world driven by vanity metrics and talking points. This is probably why people value artists like David Lynch and Allen Ginsberg — people who cut through the chaff. So much of my life is spent separating the chaff from the real deal.

In the name of honesty, here’s an update about my life.

I’ve been in the hospital since Saturday night. I attempted to kill myself by taking an overdose of antidepressants. Instead of dying, I had a seizure in my Subaru and ran into a light pole on East ave. I awoke to my tongue hanging out my mouth, drooling into the cupholder in my car, with an old woman banging on my passenger’s side window.

“SIR! GET OUT OF THE CAR!”

The rest of the night was a smeared blur of red lights, canopied with the nauseating feeling of being the center of attention. I only want the stage on my terms.

If there’s one good thing to come of this, it’s the realization of how many people love me.

It’s frustrating when you don’t see yourself the way that others do.