Forcing myself to have hope

Look, man, I'm sorry about my state of mind lately. Yesterday I just was in this anxiety state where I didn't know what to do. I'm sorry.

It's okay, farmboy. It's more than okay. It gave me this glimpse into you, into what you call your "mental illness." It must be a living hell for you when...I'm not sure how to put it...

It is mental illness. I know this.

What happens is that I become somebody really...out of control. And it is a frightening thing after it's gone. It feels like I have no control over it. It fuckin' escalates and escalates and...it's like I sort of "wake up;" I de-escalate, I guess. And hope that I haven't done too much damage to other people or myself.

It's fucked. It's really fucked. Nobody can have any idea what it's like.

I'm sorry, farmboy.

We're just sorry creatures, aren't we?

I just wanted to apologize. I didn't want to leave for California without talking to you.

California? That's right, I remember now -- you're going to your family reunion at your sister's place.

Santa Paula, California. I love that town. I spent a lot of time there in happier days, when i was younger. When life had promise.

You have happy days in front of you, farmboy.

I don't know, man. I just don't know anymore, and that scares me. I feel like I'm forcing myself to have hope, and that all the evidence is pointing the other way. The hopeless way. I feel like all my trying is in vain. I mean, I'm kinda back to normal now, but hope, man...it's still so fuckin' scarce.

I feel bad, too, 'cause I get angry and then I curse. And I don't mean words like "fuck" and that kind of thing. Those are pretty fuckin' harmless. (laughs) It's, you know, taking the Lord's name in vain, that kind of stuff...

You don't think God can handle that?

Oh, I know He can, but...I don't know...

God forgives you, farmboy. You, on the other hand, have a much harder time.

I know.

Did you apologize to God?

I did, yeah.

Then let it go and move on.

Okay.

You're pretty hesitant there, farmboy.

It's the best I can do, man.

Are you going to be all right to go to California, farmboy?

I think so. I almost called it off, but, fuck, what's that gonna do?

Are you packed?

Just about.

Remember to take your clonazepam...your anxiety meds.

They're in there, believe me.

And don't be afraid to take them if you need to. All right, farmboy?

I won't.

I'm serious. And take it easy down there. Don't stress yourself out unnecessarily. Be with your family. Be with your friends. These people love you.

Yeah...

There are phones there...

I'll have my cell phone with me.

Do you have a lap top?

No. I can't afford things like that, man.

Well, if you're at somebody's house checking your email, drop me a line, let me know how you're doing. Call anytime, day or night.

I will, man. Thanks.

Have fun, okay?

Okay.

Remember, even if I'm not there, I'm still with you. Just think of me supporting you.

Thanks, man.

You be good now, okay?

(farmboy starts tearing up)

It's gonna be okay, farmboy. Think of that Bob Marley song:

Don't worry about a thing

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right

Thanks, man.