well here i am, high sitting here alone. thinking. thinking about the status of my marriage, thinking about life and death. thinking can life really get better for me after all these years? you said that you weren’t going to give up. i assume you were implying i shouldn’t either. that of course depends on who wins the ongoing battle in my head. the rational me knows that killing myself isn’t right. but that isn’t the problem. its the pro-death voice in my head who has been the chatty one these last few months. she knows which buttons to push. she increasingly doesn’t care about the wreckage my suicide would leave behind. she asks don’t i get credit for time served? isn’t 30 odd years of near constant misery enough? why do i need to stay for more? when i look at my life i wonder what could have been. maybe i could have finished college if i hadn’t been so suicidally depressed. if the urge to jump out of a 10th story window wasn’t so strong. if i wasn’t so good at hiding my pain from the world. maybe things could have been better. someone would have helped me. but i didn’t believe i deserved any better. when i look to the future i see a marriage that is strained. sometimes i wonder if i still love him, and i think he questions whether he still loves me. he has his own drama to deal with as well. we will never be able to retire. his answer to retirement is a bullet. i have said it before -i am worth more dead than alive. as i have said before if i want to be stopped i will be. if i don’t i won’t.
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