October 17, 2019
So, what happened after?
There was an inpouring of confused and sympathetic replies. Some were simply along the lines of “You are loved” and “There are friends all around the world thinking of you”, while others were more focused on “But this is all so sudden” and “You didn’t say anything was wrong.” Someone mentioned a correlation between my medication and dissociation as mentioned.
You have to understand that, at the time, I was embedded in a casino an hour and a half’s drive from work. Casinos are horrifying places to be, even at the best of time. Desperation and sweat. Cigarette smoke and free drinks. The dead eyes of those who must pull the lever, who must pull the lever, who must pull the lever.
So here I was, with an hour’s sleep under my belt, seeing people still gambling, still hurting, answering texts and calls from my boss, and a wave of numb dissociation once more washes over me.
I drove numbly down to work
You sat in your car in front of the building, talking on the phone with Ash. You somehow made it to your desk, though there was no memory of moving from the car.
“Come with me,” Kevin said, and beckoned me out of the office.
“Sorry about all of the freaking out,” I mumbled, once we were out of earshot. “I think it has to do with the medication, I’m going to call Dr.-”
The office next to
“I need you to tell me what your plan is,” my boss asked.
“Plan?”
“Plan to kill yourself.”
“I…don’t have a plan, I don’t know why,” I managed.
“Well, you need to tell me if anything like that happens again.”