birdbones
New Member
- Dec 30, 2025
- 1
I ordered my SN today.
It's been a long road of mental illness that brought me here. I won't bore anyone with all the details - most of us here already understand.
The funny thing is, I just got back from my first non-funeral related trip in over twelve years. I met over a dozen online friends and participated in several activities. My agoraphobia was screaming, my social anxiety was buzzing, my paranoia and rejection sensitive dysphoria were in overdrive... But I did it.
And when I got back I started making future plans. Next year, I'll sing this at karaoke. I'll come a day earlier so I can hang out with other people, etc. In the meantime, I'll leave my house at least once a week to go for walks. I'll hang out with my neighbor more. I'll diet, I'll lose a hundred pounds, I'll read more, I'll embarrass myself less, I'll-
I'll do better.
I'll be better.
And yet...at the same time, I'm making other, permanent future plans. Ordering SN. Writing down the things I need to do to prepare. Figuring out who gets personalized messages and where to post the generalized goodbye. Debating who I trust with my music and poetry. Going through my stuff to decide what's worth bequeathing and what should just be donated.
It's a strange time. I feel like a wish bone, being pulled in two. I don't know which piece of me will win, but I take comfort in knowing that I will at least have peace of mind, knowing I'll be able to choose.
Still, either way, I'm scared. Scared to live, scared to die.
I wish there was a moral to this. Some hook that made this worth reading for you all. I think I've just been alone with my thoughts for too long, and needed to share the news -and my strange headspace - with people who might understand.
Thanks for reading. Appreciate you.
It's been a long road of mental illness that brought me here. I won't bore anyone with all the details - most of us here already understand.
The funny thing is, I just got back from my first non-funeral related trip in over twelve years. I met over a dozen online friends and participated in several activities. My agoraphobia was screaming, my social anxiety was buzzing, my paranoia and rejection sensitive dysphoria were in overdrive... But I did it.
And when I got back I started making future plans. Next year, I'll sing this at karaoke. I'll come a day earlier so I can hang out with other people, etc. In the meantime, I'll leave my house at least once a week to go for walks. I'll hang out with my neighbor more. I'll diet, I'll lose a hundred pounds, I'll read more, I'll embarrass myself less, I'll-
I'll do better.
I'll be better.
And yet...at the same time, I'm making other, permanent future plans. Ordering SN. Writing down the things I need to do to prepare. Figuring out who gets personalized messages and where to post the generalized goodbye. Debating who I trust with my music and poetry. Going through my stuff to decide what's worth bequeathing and what should just be donated.
It's a strange time. I feel like a wish bone, being pulled in two. I don't know which piece of me will win, but I take comfort in knowing that I will at least have peace of mind, knowing I'll be able to choose.
Still, either way, I'm scared. Scared to live, scared to die.
I wish there was a moral to this. Some hook that made this worth reading for you all. I think I've just been alone with my thoughts for too long, and needed to share the news -and my strange headspace - with people who might understand.
Thanks for reading. Appreciate you.
