Thirty-One Days

December 1st, 2024

11:11am

Challenge: suffer for thirty-one more days. (why couldn’t this month only have thirty?)

Challenge: stay alive thirty-one days.

Challenge: live for thirty-one days.

(Dante, if you decided to be a piece of shit and read this, do me a favor and let everyone at my funeral know I did attempt to change my mindset. Depression’s not a fucking mindset.)

6pm

Check-in: Mom called today; asked if I wanted to help decorate the tree. Tell me why she had to mention Moscato? Dad, being Dad, brought out the Tequila, and we all drank more than we should’ve. It helped, honestly. It usually does. I knocked out on the couch. Drunken naps might actually make these days go by way faster. 

(I would’ve helped Mom even if alcohol wasn’t mentioned.)

December 2nd, 2024

Snowed today. Still gotta #makethatbread. Didn’t have as many people at the bar tonight and my manager got stuck in the snow which was pretty dope. The guys and I love the days he’s not there. Guess how many shots I got to take in front of the cameras? 

Six. 

Is this what it feels like to live? 

Ha.

Anyway, still made $153 in tips.

December 3rd, 2024

Mom called crying over grandpa again. Days like this, I feel so guilty…I don’t like seeing her grieve. I don’t want her to cry over me like that when I’m gone. 

Mom, if you’re reading this, please know I wanted this. Don’t blame yourself. Don’t miss me. Sometimes, people just don’t like life. I happen to be one of them. These feelings never seem to go away…imagine this: it’s nighttime and you’re scared of the dark. You can’t wait to see the sun rise again so the cold, the anxiety, the loneliness goes away. So you wait…and wait…but it never does. And that feeling settles in your chest. You feel trapped. The darkness weighs in. You hear people reassuring you the sun will rise again.

Why doesn’t it? It’s like someone’s already buried me.

Imagine living like this for four years.

Anyways, I’m doing this challenge for you, Mom. I won’t ruin your holidays. I lived today: I put blue and white Christmas lights on my apartment balcony since you love blue. You’ll remember this day because I Facetimed you while jokingly hanging off the balcony, tangled in lights, and almost giving you a heart attack.

Too soon?

I love you.

December 4th, 2024

Took Mae on an ice-skating date today. She looked so beautiful with her jet-black hair, blue eyes, dimpled-smile. My dream girl of three years. It's so cute how she matches her outfits. She wore this fuzzy white hat with two fuzzy gray pom-poms on each side; she looked like a teddy bear. And God, that sweater. It was baggy and hung off one shoulder, but sometimes I got to see the crevice of her boobs when she almost fell forward on the ice. 

I fell on my ass. She offered to massage it later; I settled for a bath she prepared for me and that’s where I write this from.

I’m gonna marry this woman. Or…I’d like to think I do. 

Mae, if anyone lets you read this, know that was my intention.

December 5th, 2024

Alright, under no circumstances let ANYONE believe I’m a cat person. I’m not. But when I saw those small prints in the snow, I couldn’t help but follow them to the trash can by my apartment. 

Two kittens! Abandoned!

This will not be a foster fail. One husky is enough.

December 6th, 2024

I don’t know if I can complete this challenge.

Today was hard. I called in from work because my body felt so heavy. Mae called in to take care of me. God, I don’t deserve her.

Does it really count if the only reason I’m still alive today is because of her?

December 10th, 2024

Haven’t failed my challenge yet. I’m still alive. 

December 11th, 2024. 

How do I tell my parents Mae’s pregnant? They’re gonna be so happy. They’ve talked about grandkids for years. Dante doesn’t want any yet, though he’s five years older and has been married for eight now. 

Fuck. Her smile when she showed me all the positive tests guilted me. I’m gonna have a baby… A mini me…or a mini her.

Today, I lived by passing through the baby aisle with her when we left for groceries.

December 13th, 2024

Why…why must you be so tempting?

Such a gorgeous bottle of pills. I opened the bottle and agreed that however many fell into my palm, I would take. Seven pink, round pills filled my palm. The key to lifting the weight on my chest.

They’re in the drain now.

I’m just drunk. Goodnight.

December 15th, 2024

You know what I just thought of? Why the hell is mental health awareness month in May? Why is it only a month? And Mae--being a teacher--informed me schools only talk about it during morning meetings. What the fuck?

Kids don’t need it in May. That’s the end of the school year, when their problems just go dormant for the summer. That’s teaching suppression, isn’t it? “Mental health awareness month…but hey, summer vacation soon!” 

I hope I don’t get her fired. I asked her to set up a meeting with the principal.

December 16th, 2024

Mae’s on winter break now. Her principal offered to meet when they get back on the second. Hell, maybe I’ll extend my challenge a few extra days just to have that meeting.

Or maybe my absence will yield more change.

Anyways, Dante and Leah invited us over to discuss how to talk to Mom and Dad about our baby. We don’t know if we want to announce it as a Christmas gift, or announce it now so they feel more excitement as they go about their holiday traditions.

We’ll see.

December 17th, 2024

You know, life’s been pretty good to me lately. Maybe feeling my feelings, writing about shit, and spending time with people who make the pain less painful actually does something.

I really do have it all: a loving girlfriend, both parents who are highly involved, a great older brother, a good job, a thirteen-year old husky (crazy!) and now two orange cats. Oh, and a fucking baby.

I’m gonna see the doctor today. Maybe I need some meds. My brain’s all fucked up; I feel it coming back. That wave of grief tied to nothing. 

I bought collars for the cats today. Named ‘em Slushy and Stud.

December 20th, 2024

I took my parents out for dinner tonight. They asked what the occasion was; I told them we didn’t need one just to have crab together.

Jk. I was gonna announce Mae’s pregnancy, but Mae wasn’t feeling great and we decided last minute to wait till Christmas. I needed…actually, I don’t really know.

Mom said she’s excited for New Year’s and ready to bypass Christmas; she’s throwing a big family party and buying out all the alcohol from the stores, supposedly. She wants me to make my signature cocktails for guests, and I told her anything for her.

It was nice to see my parents enjoying their crab. They never eat like that because they’re always too busy helping others. I took pictures tonight. I don’t know why…it just felt different.

December 21st, 2024

Fuck today.

December 22nd, 2024

Mae just left. It’s 11pm right now…her dad just picked her up.

God, I’m such an asshole. What the fuck am I doing. 

I’ve been crying since she closed the car door. She said she hates me; her dad flipped me off. My phone keeps ringing; I don’t doubt it's my brother, or my parents, or Mae’s friends.

I just can’t be with her right now. I can’t. It’s not right. She deserves better.

I’m not gonna fucking be here next year. I don’t want to be a fucking parent. Just to what? Pass my depression on to a child? What if she raises the kid by herself while I’m just a fucking alcoholic passed out on the sofa? She deserves better. 

I’m sorry Mae. I’m so sorry. I love you more than you know…you’re my whole world. But why can’t it go away? I’m so sorry…it’s not your fault. It just won’t go away. 

Am I wrong? I thought it’d be better to break up so she has a head start into grieving me. I don’t know. I’m wrong. I helped her pack. I told her to get rid of the baby. But fuck, I felt the baby kick this morning…

I have to get ready for bed.

December 25th, 2024

Last night wasn’t bad. We opened gifts, had dinner, all that dumb shit. Mom and Dad loved their gift: I got them tickets for a two-week cruise. I hope that alleviates some of their pain. It’s for summer, so I’m really hoping they don’t sell the tickets because…well, yeah.

I never really liked Christmas.

December 27th, 2024

Wow. I’ve made it twenty-seven days.

You know what would’ve been more fun? A thirty-before thirty list. I’ll be thirty next July; what would I do differently with my life?

I wish I would’ve attended a music festival in another country. Cliff-dived. Had sex on a plane. Published a book. Married…raised a baby.

Maybe by July, things will be better. I can write a new list…yeah, maybe I’ll do that.

I think these pills the doctor gave me might actually be working.

December 29th, 2024

I’m higher than the clouds right now.

Not actually…but how crazy is it that I’m still here? I didn’t want to write about my first attempt since this was more for my parents to see how my mindset was the last thirty-one days of my life and I didn’t want to trigger anything, but I’ll just mention it briefly.

Four years ago, the doctor’s told me depression can be chemical, in the brain, and isn’t necessarily easy to fix--but it’s manageable. I thought I was only grieving my grandpa, but it started before his death. Maybe it was that bad car accident, maybe it was all the crime documentaries I watched. Maybe it was the lack of sleep once I started bartending, or the betrayal from my childhood best friend.

I can’t remember when it started. But one day, it did, and not long after, I stocked up on some pills, and…

I met Mae months later. Everyone supported me. Not sure how I survived, but I did, and I was fine for a while. Didn’t attempt it again.

Until twenty-nine days ago. No one knew. They still don’t know. I won’t bother sharing the details.

I’m not a shitty person…at least, I hope I’m not. I heard it takes thirty days to break a habit; maybe that’s what this is. Just a bad, depressing habit. Mom, Dad, Dante, Mae, my unborn child, whomever may be reading this…on Thanksgiving, I decided I’d give myself thirty days. (thirty-one since December has that many). For thirty-one days, I’d try my best to live. Maybe I’d regain the will to.

Honestly…I might be.

I just loaded up the car with some mixers and liquor for New Year’s Eve. I think I’ll call Mae; or maybe I’ll hold off on that till the party. Here comes the part where I beg her to take me back. 

I wonder how my parents will take the news of us expecting. I know for a fact Mae will never get rid of that child. And I wouldn’t want her to.

December 30th, 2024

Wooo! Day thirty. I’m ecstatic. So ecstatic, in fact, I’m already celebrating. How many shots in am I now? Four? 

I’ve been waiting so long; I thought this day would never come. It’s been so difficult pushing through the days when the waves return; I really hope that doesn’t happen tomorrow. I did feel the heaviness returning…that goddamn parasite. Hence the early shots. What time is it? Eight? AM?

God, it’s so beautiful here. So peaceful. The city has a fresh layer of snow covering it. Who knew the roof of my apartment could give such a view. I mean…eleven stories. Sheesh.

Damn. It isn’t working.

Dante, if you made it this far…still attempting to change my mindset. It’s not working today. I don’t know if I can make it another day. Let alone…today.

4:13pm

Mom called to confirm I’ll be at the party tomorrow. Of course I will. 

That is, if these pink little guys stop whispering in my ear. Nine fell in my hand today. I took three more shots…it’s not really helping. I think I’m gonna call Mae soon. Usually she talks me down from the ledge. 

6:03pm

I think it’s time I go inside. I just can’t get enough of the view today. Then again, since the sun’s set, the city shines with so many lights. 

I’m sorry, Mom, for drinking what I was supposed to bring tomorrow. I’m sorry I never called you, Mae. Sorry, Dad, I didn’t write about you more. Dante, I should’ve told you about this journal. How will you ever know I followed your advice and bought a journal that same day?

I’m fucking stupid. Who the hell does a thirty-one day challenge? Soon, you’ll know I didn’t actually get called in to work New Year’s Eve.

Anyway, I think I’m just gonna reread these entries. At least the last thirty days, I lived.