5 am and the alarm goes off. The first of six daily alarms I set for myself. I consciously know I won’t be able to sit up on the first three bells. Each snooze I click on my cell phone adds another ten minutes of despair. “Here we go again” I think. Tossing from side to side, I breathe heavy mournful sighs as the thoughts begin to race through my waking mind. By the sixth alarm, my cat Tricks climbs into bed and begins her complaining meows. She’s reminding me that I have responsibilities. “Here we go again” I think again. Simply being awake is a disappointment in itself. Two hours later and I manage to roll over one last time. With the least amount of energy, I roll off my bed and plant my feet on the floor.
I’m Wiccan so at this point I should be thinking of grounding myself and giving thanks for the day ahead, but the despairing thoughts are distractedly rushing through my mind. Quickly, I take the 10 short steps to the couch where I plop down, knees drawn to chest, and start lighting that first cigarette. I sit in the dark, the cat complaining about my laziness, and let the thoughts envelope me.
I check my phone to see if anyone has contacted me. Most days I have no messages this early and my mind reminds me that no one thinks of me. Ever. I check my calendar and see the usual work meetings, band gigs to promote, and that reminder to go to the gym that I always ignore. The thoughts rush back to remind that I have no plans because no one likes me. Never. At this point I have an hour to go before taking my first antidepressant/anti-anxiety pill. You know, the happy pill that makes these nasty thoughts go away. Until then, I cradle my knees and turn on the radio. Each song’s lyrics reminding me of a better time, a past lover, or the fact that I’ll die alone.