Before 4

R. Alexander

I check the clock. 3:36pm.

I do the math.

By 4 or so I should be good.

I lay down and turn on my favorite nostalgic cartoon and sigh.
I don’t just sigh, I exhale fully. I know that it’s only a matter of time.

4:15 isn’t the time that I will start ot feel things. It’s the time that I will no longer remember to even look at the clock at all.

I dumped them all out on my bed around 3:30.

I made a verbal declaration about 5 minutes before that “Ok, I’m all done”

Whatever caused that is irrelevant. It could be a number of things. Mostly though, it’s a feeling, not an event. It’s the wave of a feeling of just not wanting to be here anymore.

No, I don’t want to die. That’s not it. At least not in these instances.

I just simply don’t want to be here anymore.

And so I stand up from the couch, and say to my cat “OK, enough for the day” and I start to prepare for the night as if it were night time. I make his bed, I double check the locked doors, fill up my water bottle and close the bedroom door behind me.

I lay them all out there. The big bottle as I call it.

I open it up and dump it on my bed… in a little crevice that I make with my hand. I separate the ones that I need from the ones that I like. Coincidentally, the ones that I like are typically blue.

I throw in some supplementals for an extra slide. The ones that are supposed to be taken daily just to keep me at bay.

For the most part though, I take from the reserves.

I count out how many I have in total first, I don’t want to sell myself short of next week’s ‘fade’

I put as many as I can into one pile. Sometimes I laugh as I pile them up, knowing that I can handle what would normally put a horse to sleep.

I add the accoutrements on top. The benadryls, melatonins, nyquils… you have your prescribed ‘calmers’ too… the ones that are supposed to be used twice daily. Yeah, I’ll put a small handful of those in there as well.

There’s a part of me that occasionally wonders why this is the ritual that I continue to return to. It has caused quite a bit of damage in the past and yet, this seems to be the only option. What? You want me to go for a fucking walk? Drink green juice? Meditate?

Glad I filled up my water bottle. It’s a bitch when I forget and I have to enter the real world again, getting my cat’s hopes up that I am back to play. Not this time though… this time I took care of business.

I get into the comfiest clothes I own. I prepare everything perfectly. Socks near the bed, a hoodie just in case, the fan facing me perfectly and a snack on my nightstand.

Xanax tastes terrible no matter how you slice it. Doesn’t matter how fast you take it, what you take it with or if you start by putting it in the back of your throat… it’s just so bitter.

The rest of them are fine though. The ones that really count.

As of late, I’ve been telling ChatGPT just how much of everything I’ve taken to read just how scared it is for my wellbeing. I get a little thrill out of it.

I check the time.

3:36pm.

Things will start to kick in around 4 and then the fade starts. That’s my favorite part.

Closing my eyes and not remembering that there is even a clock to watch.

I’ve done it. I’m no longer here.  

The fade always comes. It never disappoints. I just have to do my damndest to remember to forget that tomorrow is next.