why are you stil alive?
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Im still alive because today my brain didn't try to kill me like it usually tries to on a daily basis. I have a plan but its not until next May. I want to graduate from College and at least make my family proud of that. That will hopefully be in May then I can let lose and die if I chose. I already have the pills and done the research and the meds I have are I guess fatal, so I guess I'm done after this. So goodbye I guess. AS far as my family they do not really care, they care but in there own way they do not show it. I have 2 friends one live 2000miles away and I don't think she really cares it I die and my other friend I KNOW cares she has expressed great concern for me but I can help that my brain tells me to kill myself on a daily basis, I am mentally ill. I take tons of meds to tank a horse and I'm awake for days, WTF. But no meds to stop the suicidal thoughts out there, darn!
Because God is a sadist.
“Each way to suicide is its own: intensely private, unknowable, and terrible. Suicide will have seemed to its perpetrator the last and best of bad possibilities, and any attempt by the living to chart this final terrain of life can be only a sketch, maddeningly incomplete ”
― Kay Redfield Jamison, Night Falls Fast: Understanding Suicide
---------- Post added at 06:47 AM ---------- Previous post was at 06:30 AM ----------
Indeed, maybe you are. Maybe we all are very, very brave to go on.
It's gonna take a lot of courage to live and a lot of courage to die. This is the most profound thing my therapist ever said to me.
“Each way to suicide is its own: intensely private, unknowable, and terrible. Suicide will have seemed to its perpetrator the last and best of bad possibilities, and any attempt by the living to chart this final terrain of life can be only a sketch, maddeningly incomplete ”
― Kay Redfield Jamison, Night Falls Fast: Understanding Suicide
---------- Post added at 06:47 AM ---------- Previous post was at 06:30 AM ----------
Cause Im freaken awsome thats why.
It's gonna take a lot of courage to live and a lot of courage to die. This is the most profound thing my therapist ever said to me.
I don't really know. I think that I'm full of love.
Love for other things and people, or caring for other people.
My friends and boyfriend say I never talk about myself, and that they don't know any personal things about until they all come gushing out in indescribable bursts because I'm holding it all in to feign weakness. I don't hate life, I really don't. I just have never really thought it was for me.
In a world where opinions can be assumed wrong, or disproved by logic, or a world where we can be easily manipulated in the fiscal and existential line by the colors of are skin or gender or physical character when we only have control of the physical part...in a world where it is much easier to lay down and die than go on thinking that you always have to be climbing up to represent something, rather than getting enough to be comfortable, just narrowly becoming virtually another story to talk about..I have hardly thrived. Life is...complicated...and I've spent so much time trying to rationalize it that my boat in life is passing me up, and I'm soon to be waiting to die here anyway.
But love....I don't know where it comes from. I feel it when I see a child smiling even though they aren't sure why the are, or when a song, color, taste, picture, or touch triggers a warm memory of something I once had. I feel it when I try to remember what is was like to be happy and know that when I pass the feeling on, it snowballs elsewhere.
Jut on this basis alone I cannot define a purpose in my life, but I'm sure when I have nothing to smile about I'll make that fatal decision and join the universe. I don't think we get to keep our memories in the afterlife, so I cherish them while I still remember.
This causes me to have trouble forgetting the other things, which I've settled with in 90% of my life, hardening me and crushing my innocence, powerful gentle and cruel, all at once.
Night's I lay awake, with the pain gnawing at my brain, eating out the back of my eyes in a fierce torment and I cry to myself, "Why am I still here?"
I don't know, but I think it's the curiosity of what's holding me back that's keeping me maybe. I hope that I never know.
Love for other things and people, or caring for other people.
My friends and boyfriend say I never talk about myself, and that they don't know any personal things about until they all come gushing out in indescribable bursts because I'm holding it all in to feign weakness. I don't hate life, I really don't. I just have never really thought it was for me.
In a world where opinions can be assumed wrong, or disproved by logic, or a world where we can be easily manipulated in the fiscal and existential line by the colors of are skin or gender or physical character when we only have control of the physical part...in a world where it is much easier to lay down and die than go on thinking that you always have to be climbing up to represent something, rather than getting enough to be comfortable, just narrowly becoming virtually another story to talk about..I have hardly thrived. Life is...complicated...and I've spent so much time trying to rationalize it that my boat in life is passing me up, and I'm soon to be waiting to die here anyway.
But love....I don't know where it comes from. I feel it when I see a child smiling even though they aren't sure why the are, or when a song, color, taste, picture, or touch triggers a warm memory of something I once had. I feel it when I try to remember what is was like to be happy and know that when I pass the feeling on, it snowballs elsewhere.
Jut on this basis alone I cannot define a purpose in my life, but I'm sure when I have nothing to smile about I'll make that fatal decision and join the universe. I don't think we get to keep our memories in the afterlife, so I cherish them while I still remember.
This causes me to have trouble forgetting the other things, which I've settled with in 90% of my life, hardening me and crushing my innocence, powerful gentle and cruel, all at once.
Night's I lay awake, with the pain gnawing at my brain, eating out the back of my eyes in a fierce torment and I cry to myself, "Why am I still here?"
I don't know, but I think it's the curiosity of what's holding me back that's keeping me maybe. I hope that I never know.
I
1. Because I read some where that who can be sure that there is not life after death and how horrible it woule be to duck out of this life to find that then you are then in an eternal hell with absolutely no escape.
2. Because although I have given myself permission to, I want to explore all options first just to be sure it is the best / only one
2. Because although I have given myself permission to, I want to explore all options first just to be sure it is the best / only one
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