I know I don’t know, but I will anyway

As confusing as the title may be it’s actually accurate, nearly dead-on exact for any definition I can give.

I guess I’m ‘giving up’? But I don’t like that phrase. It’s too sympathetic, when I say ‘giving up’ its like I’m on the wrong side, as if I don’t want to do it. But yes, I’ve decided to end my life, or as I’d like to put it, I’m ‘exercising  my right-to-die, as I see fit, in light of circumstances which I feel are too great to cope with and the rewards of doing so too little to be worthwhile’.

Question; Why?

Answer; You could say I’ve lived a less than glamorous life. Born a typical fat little kid, only boy(youngest at that) in a family of women, no father around. And of course we were poor, not incredibly but mind you still far from ‘well off’. Grew up from there awkward, switching multiple schools till my head began to spin, never finding myself (or something like that). I was the too intelligent for my own good type with an interest in the bad things like loud music, drugs, and alcohol. Got out of high school and landed a decide job immediately despite no further education which seems nice but actually just because the source of funds to mostly destroy myself via more drugs and alcohol. Thought I found redemption, stopped and the drugging and drinking and enlisted in the United States Navy and really was on my way to my lot in life. But of course old habits die hard and due to a series of poor choices involving generally alcohol I’ve ruined my future, buried myself in debt, I’m facing destroying my career, and most likely going to jail. Plus all those people who told me to calm down and stop living so wildly (not their words, I’m paraphrasing) are right.

So I’ve come to the solution to procure my own salvation by ending my suffering, being that I am generally the sole cause of my suffering. Its seemingly an erroneous conclusion to come to  but by now I’ve probably expressed a character that does ‘his own thing’, so to speak, and so it is the conclusion I want.

Some people will surely be disappointed by my suicide.

List follows:

>My mother who loves me unconditionally, and will be greatly hurt by my death, in any circumstance, and who would very much enjoy to see me turn my life around and become someone awesome and worthwhile. But I feel this is inevitable so why drag it out and force her watch the tragedy of her son’s life unfold, all the while being an annoyance. I’m sure she would disagree but in the end it’s her decision to make.

>The few friends, my father, and my sisters who are close enough to me to be upset by my death. To them I have to say it will be sad and most likely hurt a good deal to you but most of you are young and should take me as an example of what not to become. Plus you’ll get over it eventually anyway.

>The District attorney who wants me in jail and the companies I owe thousands to. Just fuck you guys.

Now, as the reader, you might be wondering why am I bothering to write this? Who is this for? What am I trying to really convey here? Well I can settle that, regardless of whether you were asking or not. I think part of me doesn’t want to do it, some inner instinct of survival  is raising its voice in the form of an urge to write about my suicide, to call out for help and stop this mad man I’ve become from making a huge mistake. And it’s really too bad and really too late. I can very much feel an opinion inside that is not wishing this to happen, but where the hell was that voice of reason when I was committing all the little mistakes that have snowballed over most of my life to end me up here? Clearly that voice was silenced then and will be silenced now.

So maybe I’m writing this because I know better to than to actually talk to someone about the matter, because I know that’s mistake number one. In past attempts(no this isn’t my first time, but at least the last) the turn around begins with telling someone else. But despite that I’m very communicative of a person and have to tell someone even if its the internet. Regardless I wrote it anyway, maybe it’d help someone figure things out for themselves.

I’m very confused and rather lost and hopeless. I shouldn’t have to live like this.

But in the end, at least there’s an end. I’ll have my own soon.

The photo is of myself of course, so you may have a face to go along with the words.