hearteststill (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hearteststill) wrote2017-04-30 04:09 am
hearteststill) wrote2017-04-30 04:09 am
(no subject)
[CW: talking about suicide]
I read this article [here] about how as a suicidal person, staying alive is selfless. It's been on my mind a lot since.
Something I don't tell anyone - I think about dying often. at least once a day. I haven't attempted suicide in many years and I don't feel like I would attempt anytime soon, but I do think about it. I think about it when i'm driving - imagine scenarios where an accident happens and I'm killed. I think about how krista did it - chemical fumes. I think about the scene from 13 Reasons Why - slit wrists. It's not like I haven't had practice with a razor. I've been self-harming and cutting since I was 13. I don't very often these days. I've traded it in for tattoos - the same relief and feeling, which is to say being able to feel anything.
For months, I've questioned what the point to life is. I still don't know the answer and I still don't understand. My days blur together because I do the same thing every day. get up and work. maybe watch something on netflix or catch up on shows while I work, but every day I work. I don't leave the house most days. I just don't see the point. We live for a while and die. Awesome. So what does it even matter? I will be forgotten when I die. I haven't done anything important. I've dealt with a lot of shit - and it's made me jaded and negative.
What resonated with me in the article was about how honest the writer was about this truth - for some of us it's hard to live. Every day is a struggle to get out of bed. Some are easier than others, but every day it's a struggle. Within myself, I get angry. I feel like a joke, a failure, a waste of space. That doesn't help me want to live.
Sometimes I'll think of the impact of my own suicide. Envision who would take my cats, my things, etc. Knowing I have executive dysfunction as well as knowing I would miss some things, I don't worry about those thoughts becoming worse. I promised myself that if I was ever going to attempt again, I would organize and box all my things beforehand - like Krista did. I wouldn't want anyone to have to deal with my mess. But I also know that it won't happen. A mix of executive dysfunction gaming and knowing I'm not in that mindset.
So I keep living. Not for myself, because I stopped doing that decades ago.
hoping to figure out what's so great about living, because I couldn't name one reason right now that would make this entire life of shit worth it.
I read this article [here] about how as a suicidal person, staying alive is selfless. It's been on my mind a lot since.
Something I don't tell anyone - I think about dying often. at least once a day. I haven't attempted suicide in many years and I don't feel like I would attempt anytime soon, but I do think about it. I think about it when i'm driving - imagine scenarios where an accident happens and I'm killed. I think about how krista did it - chemical fumes. I think about the scene from 13 Reasons Why - slit wrists. It's not like I haven't had practice with a razor. I've been self-harming and cutting since I was 13. I don't very often these days. I've traded it in for tattoos - the same relief and feeling, which is to say being able to feel anything.
For months, I've questioned what the point to life is. I still don't know the answer and I still don't understand. My days blur together because I do the same thing every day. get up and work. maybe watch something on netflix or catch up on shows while I work, but every day I work. I don't leave the house most days. I just don't see the point. We live for a while and die. Awesome. So what does it even matter? I will be forgotten when I die. I haven't done anything important. I've dealt with a lot of shit - and it's made me jaded and negative.
What resonated with me in the article was about how honest the writer was about this truth - for some of us it's hard to live. Every day is a struggle to get out of bed. Some are easier than others, but every day it's a struggle. Within myself, I get angry. I feel like a joke, a failure, a waste of space. That doesn't help me want to live.
Sometimes I'll think of the impact of my own suicide. Envision who would take my cats, my things, etc. Knowing I have executive dysfunction as well as knowing I would miss some things, I don't worry about those thoughts becoming worse. I promised myself that if I was ever going to attempt again, I would organize and box all my things beforehand - like Krista did. I wouldn't want anyone to have to deal with my mess. But I also know that it won't happen. A mix of executive dysfunction gaming and knowing I'm not in that mindset.
So I keep living. Not for myself, because I stopped doing that decades ago.
hoping to figure out what's so great about living, because I couldn't name one reason right now that would make this entire life of shit worth it.