Not Going Through, Getting Out. Why Do Friends Want Me To Suffer And Live?
I've been sick for over a year. It's not something you can see. It's pain. Debilitating, all consuming, alienating, life destroying pain. Nothing is what it used to be. Everything I do is tempered by "how much will this hurt? Is it worth it?" People don't really understand. Maybe if I had someone who loved me but friends, they get tired of someone who's too tired to socialize, family downplays it. They don't wanna know. I used to be funny and happy and successful. My life wasn't much but I was sure that I'd make it some thing soon. Pain took the hope away. I'm going to kill myself in six weeks. I picked a date because I wanted to try and be healed first, because I didn't want to do it one of the many days that I cry for hours on end, because I wanted an end date. I wanted to imagine a bucket list or maybe because I wanted to wrap things up. I don't know. But I'm going to die soon. It will be a small scandal for a small town, my dead body in a park. I should care, but I can't seem to force myself to. I don't feel weird or ashamed. I don't know about eternal regret. All I know is that I want it to end quickly and without a mistake on that day. I will make sure that no one can wake me after I go quietly into that dark night.