I visited relatives this Christmas, it was nice to see everyone but naturally I had a few too many drinks one night and let the veneer slip. So at least one other relative knows how fucked up I am. I really have to remember not to drink, it brings me nothing but misfortune. The trouble with being suicidally disenchanted with life is that it’s hard to cover it up, I’ve made choices in the past couple of months that have given away my secret motives, and so now I have jittery relatives worried about what I might do. I regret that, I should have been more careful not to let any of this out but it was more difficult than I’d expected.
Suicide I’ve found, at least for me, isn’t a quick process. My desire to live is pretty strong when I’m not under any stress, but it gets weakened pretty quickly when the anxiety comes. I guess me snuffing it is going to be like an earthquake knocking over a refrigerator, it has to rock back and forth a few times to finally tip. The most self destructive acts I can muster are indirect attempts to put me in harm’s way: recklessly mixing drugs and alcohol, boating in dangerous freezing water, etc. So it’s inevitable that someone will see that I’m in danger because I’m deliberately letting go of the reigns.
What I really didn’t expect was how irritating the responses are. Everyone immediately gets angry at me for worrying them and makes me promise that I won’t do anything, which I always kindly oblige and work as hard as I can to assuage their fears, but it’s all a lie of course, if I get the desire I’m acting on it; no regrets. I find it really arrogant that they can completely ignore my feelings or wishes and just jump right into their own needs. I feel like I’m being treated like a monster because they think it’s my responsibility to stick around so there can be someone to send a christmas card to every year.
On the flip side though, I guess I have to keep in mind how cold it would seem if people didn’t respond at all, but I’d still rather it be that than having people worry or panic about me. I actually discovered by accident the exact response I was looking for from my cousin’s husband, who had overheard the family gossip that I was on the edge. He said he told his wife that if I wanted to off myself that’s my choice and not to bother me about it. He’s the only person who’s demonstrated respect that it’s my right to end my life if I so choose, and that it’s nobody’s right to judge me. I really respected him for that.
All in all I have no idea if I’ll actually go through with it. If I get smacked hard enough by something it may just rock me to the tipping point, which seems likely. I just hope that when I snap I only hurt myself, because the trouble with not valuing your own life is that it makes it alot easier to devalue other people’s lives. If someone presses my buttons at the wrong moment I just may end up taking them with me, but I try not to think about that scenerio and do what I can to avoid that type of ugliness. I don’t want my last act in this world to be something cruel. That would really end up hurting my family.