Not a ‘Call for Help’

I was too stupid to trust a friend with my suicidal thoughts.
I told her how I want to die.
She told me about people dying wanting to live.
I told her: ‘Life is unfair, people can’t really have what they really want. I want to die but still living, they want to live but they are dying. I don’t see your point. Should I feel blessed for having something others want when I, myself, does not want it?’
Her answer? Ask another mutual friend.

They talked to me about solutions, alternatives, reasons and logic, of all things.

This is not a call for help. This is me discussing my future plan, a very possible future plan.

This is me giving you a heads-up.

This is me saying goodbye.

This is me trying to soften the shock.

This is me already dying while still alive.

I’m not telling you this because I want a prayer, attention, or things to make me happy.

I don’t want help. I don’t need or require help.

I may not commit suicide in a year or two or tomorrow, but that is how I will die. When waking up becomes too much of a chore for me, for someone who’s pretty much a dead (wo)man walking.