self-imposed death sentence

I’m not going to kill myself yet, or maybe ever,  if I discover something to live for. Which is unlikely.

I’m thinking I’ll wait until my parents die. I’m seventeen now, so that’ll be a while. I don’t know what to do with my life. I want the emptiness to go away. I’ve given up on myself a long time ago – I don’t have a co-dependent personality disorder, but I can only force myself to exist if it’s because other people need me. So if I never find anyone else, as soon as both of my parents are gone I’ll go to a place where assisted suicide for foreigners is legal, like Switzerland, and end my life there.  I’ve done my research. I don’t think I can kill myself on my own. At first I thought I was going to take a bunch of sleeping pills with vodka, but apparently the success rate is really low, and since I’d be all alone by then I doubt I’d be able to handle the hospitalization and whatever comes after.  And it’s illegal to attempt suicide in the country I live in now.

I want to get better. I keep telling myself that. I’m hopeful, but I’m also realistic, and I know that I’m not strong enough to face life by myself. There’s just one person in the world who makes me feel like I could live fully, that I don’t have a dead end waiting for me down the line.  Someday, I’ll probably be separated from him, and then I’ll be nothing. It’s pathetic to want to exist solely because of one person, but frankly I’m glad that I have any motivation at all. I want so, so badly to stay alive sometimes. The rest of the time, I don’t want anything but to finally rest.