I am in a basement in Denver, Colorado.

At the time of this writing it is 3:50 am. The ceiling of this basement is mere particle board. I can hear every single noise that happens above me. Even the cats. I can hear cats walk. And it's amplified too, cats and tv and everything echoing, reverberating through the walls.

I woke up a few minutes ago to the sounds of the person I am staying with having an argument with some other person.
The person I am staying with is high on acid, possibly also coke and who knows what else, and is threatening violence against his friend, who, as far as I can tell, is only expressing concern. Slight disapproval at the most. The person I am staying with doesn't want to hear it.
"I love you, man. But you need to get the fuck out of my house. And if you ever try to tell me shit like this again..."

There was a time when I would have been freaked out by hearing this. There was a time, even as late as this last summer when I stayed here for a few weeks, that I would have at least been annoyed for being woken up in the middle of the night.

But now, all I am thinking about is how badly I have to pee and how I don't want to walk upstairs and through all that bullshit to get to the bathroom. And even that is only a thought due to necessity.

When I stayed here this summer, I had grand, self-righteous thoughts about being a healing balm or a counselor or something to this guy. I could see the way he was hurting, feel that pain even, and I thought that my gentle voice and newfound eternal peace would make a difference.
But everything was too raw to even poke at. He is where he is and I don't know how to get through to him. He doesn't want to listen to anyone.

So now, I am here primarily because it is a dark room to myself to sleep.
And that is all I have done this last week. At most, I am only out of bed for a few hours at a time.
This is partially due to a severe cold that I've had. But I suspect that cold is merely a physiological symptom of my mental state. My brain wanted me to sleep for a few days, so it arranged things to make that happen.

Only two or three people know that I am back in Colorado. And I haven't seen any of them yet. I keep canceling plans. The only people I talk to is the person I am staying with—his street name is "Jett" so that's what I will call him here—and my girlfriend. Neither are particularly pleasant conversations. But I will save the bit about my girlfriend for another entry.

Jett believes the way to get over my sickness, and the severe depression and mental fragmentation that I'm in, is to party with him. But when I tell him that I don't even have money for food, let alone the stripclub, he nods his head and then leaves me alone to go back to bed.

Yesterday, he told me he noticed I haven't been eating (partly due to lack of desire, mostly due to lack of funds) and so he took me out to a cajun restaurant. We had gator and catfish. As we were wrapping up, I felt suddenly flushed and light headed. I went to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face.

And was found several minutes later out cold on the bathroom floor.

When I passed out I hit my head directly on the floor. My glasses are kind of broke now, and I have a huge bump on my forehead.

Everything was a blur for a while.

Jett drove me home and told me not to puke in his car. He stopped at Walgreens and I threw up what seemed like the entire contents of my stomach in the parking lot.

I weakly got myself situated in bed, Jett said the acid was about to kick in and so he was going to go.

And so I stayed in bed, drinking pedialyte and eating crackers. Occasionally fielding a call from Jett (I already hate calling him this, but don't want to go back and change things to his real name) who would tell me how fucked up he was and that I should just join him.

But my brain felt like it was electrocuted. I am guessing I had a seizure. So I stayed in bed. Half-watching Stranger Things until I fell asleep.

And now I am awake and the house is quiet again and I have snuck up to pee and didn't see anyone. I frequently have the thought here that I will someday wake up to find a body. This used to concern me.

But right now, I am more numb than I can ever recall.

The nervous breakdown that I experienced a few weeks ago (which I still feel unable to write about) is taking its toll. I feel like my brain is just frozen.

I am sure there is a way out of all this. I am sure I don't know what that way out is.

I am not sure I would even have the energy to walk out even if I could find it.

3:50 a.m. - 2018-11-29