In a mental state I swore I would never be in again. I'm not happy where I am, or what I'm doing or any of that. I've got the trappings of success and I'm miserable. I refuse, absolutely refuse to put my friends and family through the drama of me being depressed again. I don't want them to know anything about this. I've got a date and one of my infamous post-it to-do lists that no one else can read. I've got everything planned out except for the means of death. I'm still working out those details. It must look like a perfect accident. No one in my family can ever guess or know what happened. But I want my house cleaned out from top to bottom, I want my things so tidied that my DH can get a casual friend to box up my stuff without worrying about it. I have a friend who is coming to visit in a couple of weeks, so that gives me a great excuse for tidying the house and my stuff. I'm planning to leave special things for my DH to let him know how much I loved him and maybe seeing if I can find some on-line place to order X-mas from for at least my mom and dad and the DH so they'll get gifts from me (I'm horrible, just horrible about dates and procrastinating and forgetting. It's just like me to get a present for someone and set up delayed shipping and forget all about it until I show up 6 months later with a present when I've already sent one. . .) All of that will put me through the end of June; there's a lot to take care of and I don't want to miss anyone or miss doing anything I need to. I have some distant relations I need to find an excuse to see before then, and I need to pay off some bills I don't want the DH to have to deal with. This is exhausting, and I'm already tired. And miserable. And I just don't fear death and it would be so much easier to not exist than to exist. So. And why am I posting here? I don't know. Just writing this makes me sadder than I was. I don't want to not be there for my loved ones, I want to be there to see them get older, to curl around my DH in the middle of the night and feel his warmth and know all the love we share. But I'm just. . .absolutely miserable. I could point to a thousand excuses for this misery, but the truth is it's just misery without meaning. It just is. It's taken away my fear of death or non-existence. I feel like there's rot in the part of my soul that looks forward to life and to laughing. I don't want to leave DH or my family or my friends. I don't want to continue to exist either. And on occasion, I want rest for me. I want a cessation to misery. No idea what to do. Like I said, no way, no how am I letting anyone in my family know I'm depressed or upset in any way. I'm about to go force myself to exercise (it's actually past my bedtime right now, but I'm feeling really slothful. Haven't gotten up on the elliptical in 2 days. I can just feel the cellulite on my butt growing.) I don't think I want to do this, but I don't want to exist. And that's enough of droning on. Us MILFs are so boring sometimes. I know. I know.