I don’t think I can write something clever right now. I’m fighting against suicidal thoughts. I wonder why it seems easier to look up or think about ways to kill myself than to look for another home or some way to get mental health support?
Sometimes there is just no hope within me. I feel forsaken & doomed. I feel like there is no way I can make my life better…or even survive past the next 25 days, when my current rental term is going to be over. I don’t want to fight eviction in the courts. I just want to feel safe & comfortable somewhere, with my dog, a comfortable bed, & the things I need to survive & feel ok.
Why does my life feel so horrible? Why do I feel like my ruin is my fault? I’m flawed, but I’m not a bad person.
Death can come with a gun. I don’t have one though, & the last time I had access to one, I couldn’t bring myself to use it. I wish I could get someone else to shoot me, but that’s unlikely.
Death can come with pills. It’s not easy to get the right ones for a sure & easy death though. What I have on hand would probably just make me fucked up the next day. I envy people who accidentally die from opioid overdoses.
Death can come with a very high jump or from a train. These ways don’t feel right to me though & don’t always work.
There is a part of me, something deep within me, that doesn’t want to die.
Fuck you, Survival Instinct! What good is breathing & eating, when my mind is filled with fear & hopelessness.
Yesterday afternoon I spent four and a half hours lying on my bed, reciting in my mind prayers, nursery rhymes, the alphabet song, & imagining things that begin with the letters of the alphabet. I did this to stop myself from thinking catastrophic & suicidal thoughts. I watched some TV before & after too, also to distract myself. A couple of the shows I was watching had depressing season finales. Then I wondered why I even bother getting into TV shows, when I could be dead in a couple of months anyway.