Today was Andy’s birthday. I hope it was good, for his sake.

Dan’s back with the engine-gunning trips again, but I figured as much. It was only for a couple of minutes each time, and then I could faintly hear a dog barking once the sun set too, but that’s it. Other than that, it’s dead quiet. The weekend was dead quiet too, save for a two-minute music spree that could’ve come from God only knows where. It was so windy that day. It was probably Dan, but who knows for sure?

Tom did his mom’s taxes today and she gave him $80 for it.

I guess it’s time for me to finally write about my suicide attempt back in 1983 at Valleyhead when I was 17. I don’t think I ever have written about it in detail yet. I don’t need to do it now, but I guess I will just for the record.

I just took a quick glance back in my 1992 file and it appears I began to write about it there. However, I disagree with how I said that a flashback is always something bad. Not necessarily. But then again, I’m finding a lot of my past writings to say stuff I no longer think, feel, believe, or agree with. Our opinions change throughout our lives, I guess.

I left off at the part where I walked into the room, and you know, I really don’t remember much detail. Not just because it happened so long ago, but because I couldn’t retain things in my mind as well as I could as I got older. I always had a good memory, but there’s still no comparison between my adult memory and my memory as a child. Anyway, all I know is I started to listen to music but then I felt a panic begin to boil within me but knew it’d be hopeless to try to reach out to anyone. No one cared, and those that did either weren’t available to me at that moment, or they just couldn’t do anything to help me. You know, as in getting me the fuck out of that hell hole. It was a small room with one set of bunk beds by the room’s only window. There was a dresser in front of the window. I stepped up on the lower bunk, then onto the dresser. I opened the window, yanked the screen out, and crouched down in the window sill. I don’t think I stood there more than a few seconds before I pushed off from the sill and let myself fall.

The fall and landing were horrible, of course. The fall seemed to last forever, and when I finally hit the ground, all the air had been literally knocked out of me and I gasped for breath for a few seconds after I hit the ground. I hit dirt with a thin layer of gravel over it. The lower part of my right palm was scratched and I knew instantly my arm was broken. It was swollen and the pain was intense. I lay on my side after I landed, unable to move. One of my shoes, including a beaded necklace, came off and landed nearby. I began to scream practically as soon as I hit the ground. A staff member whom I hated came running around the corner of the house, and as soon as she saw me, she doubled back into the house. I hated this particular staff member. She was totally unfit to be working with those with problems. She even had the nerve to taunt me about my weight when I got up to the 130s cuz of all the drugs they were doping me up with. After she left, the school nurse came out, instructing me not to move till the ambulance arrived.

I think I’ll stop the story there.

They didn’t boom me awake as I expected they would. At 3:00 I heard a couple of bangs that were probably sonic booms and that probably would’ve woken me up had I been asleep. Looks like they’ve changed schedules on me already.