Today is Father’s Day and here I am in solitude because I’m such a failure as a father. I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety over a year ago and I’ve been struggling with it for a long time. I had it managed until recently when my medication ran out and with no health insurance, I’ve fallen back.
Today’s supposed to be a celebration of one’s father and a celebration of me being a father…but depression reared its ugly head and I yelled at my son and in turn everyone has turned their backs on me. I’ve laid here for hours thinking about the butcher knife in the kitchen and using it to slit my wrists and throat or the bottle of Benadryl sitting on my dresser that I want to swallow whole or taking my bed sheets and making a noose and hanging myself in the laundry room…no one would care…no one would notice.
I’m sure people will be like “but what about your son? He needs his father!” What he needs is someone who isn’t a complete failure. He’ll be better off without me being this way…I’d much rather just kill myself now than for him to hate me when he gets older.
I didn’t get a single Father’s Day gift or card…so I’m sure no one will give a fuck if I just go ahead and take myself out and rid them of the burden that is me…I don’t even care about pain because I intend to do it right the first time…