So, I did this thing that seemed like a "good" idea at the time. I reached out to a few people. Just a few, mind you, but still, they were people. I have good reasons for doing this because 1) if I decide to try a bit longer, there are people who know what's up and who support me and also 2) if I decide to NOT try any longer, the people closest to me have some warning and will not be as shocked.
I also now know that there are a few people whom I can trust to not call the cops. That's always lovely. I have also lost a few friends who cannot handle the topic at all.
The dialogue has given me the opportunity to develop boundaries (such as no cop calling) and determine what the fuck it is I actually "need". Also, what do I have to offer? And do I even have the energy for any of this? It's an ongoing conversation in my head.
Now, here I am. One leg on this side of the fence and one leg on the other. It's fucking uncomfortable. I am running out of time, in a sense, for practical reasons. COVID has afforded me some extra months, actually, and I admit that I have taken advantage of that. I've "wasted" it in many ways because of all the mental illness and suicidal planning, of course, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. My suicide will not be impulsive if and when it happens.
I've battled with suicidal ideation for some years, and I know that my death will almost certainly be my own doing unless I go in some kind of accident or randomly in my sleep, like a few fortunate people I have known. I am good with that, and I need the people in my life to be good with it, too. My death is likely going to come, when it does, by my own hands.
Is that time now? That's the question. I'm older, too, so I am pretty tired, I ain't gonna lie. I also have people that love me. Those damn mother fuckers.
I will need social services if I am to stick around, so I'll give it a bit of a shot (no pun intended) but I know that, for myself, I will not live as a homeless person. That is one limitation of which I am certain. Just not going there. I am going to seek someone out there to hold my hand. And this is the last ditch effort. I cannot, absolutely cannot do this without help, at this point.
So, I'll ride that exhausting metaphorical fence for a bit longer, but it will not be much longer. I'm OK with taking my life, but is it now? Is the time now?
Thank you for listening.
~~ L
I also now know that there are a few people whom I can trust to not call the cops. That's always lovely. I have also lost a few friends who cannot handle the topic at all.
The dialogue has given me the opportunity to develop boundaries (such as no cop calling) and determine what the fuck it is I actually "need". Also, what do I have to offer? And do I even have the energy for any of this? It's an ongoing conversation in my head.
Now, here I am. One leg on this side of the fence and one leg on the other. It's fucking uncomfortable. I am running out of time, in a sense, for practical reasons. COVID has afforded me some extra months, actually, and I admit that I have taken advantage of that. I've "wasted" it in many ways because of all the mental illness and suicidal planning, of course, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. My suicide will not be impulsive if and when it happens.
I've battled with suicidal ideation for some years, and I know that my death will almost certainly be my own doing unless I go in some kind of accident or randomly in my sleep, like a few fortunate people I have known. I am good with that, and I need the people in my life to be good with it, too. My death is likely going to come, when it does, by my own hands.
Is that time now? That's the question. I'm older, too, so I am pretty tired, I ain't gonna lie. I also have people that love me. Those damn mother fuckers.
I will need social services if I am to stick around, so I'll give it a bit of a shot (no pun intended) but I know that, for myself, I will not live as a homeless person. That is one limitation of which I am certain. Just not going there. I am going to seek someone out there to hold my hand. And this is the last ditch effort. I cannot, absolutely cannot do this without help, at this point.
So, I'll ride that exhausting metaphorical fence for a bit longer, but it will not be much longer. I'm OK with taking my life, but is it now? Is the time now?
Thank you for listening.
~~ L
