There are only a handful of things keeping me from doing it, and they’re all people. My wife, whom I don’t want to leave to pick up my shit. My little brother, who will be so confused. My parents, who will be ravaged. My employees, who will not understand.
But the reasons not to are starting to be outweighed by the feeling that I need to do it.
I feel like the moments where I think about doing it are the only moments of clarity in my life and that everything else is fake.
I think that the fact that I don’t want to do it, but feel the need to, means I am going to have to eventually.
I don’t want to, but I have seen so much of the terrible side of this world, and I know I haven’t even scratched the surface and I know that the so-called positive things are ruses.
I feel it, physically. My breathing is not in any sort of rhythm. I’m not gasping, or in any way struggling to breathe, it’s just like my breathing and my heart are each out of sync. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I’m so tired of trying.
If I know that I’m going to do it someday, why not today? Or tomorrow. When?