Other people, unpredictability, and lack of any coherent plan on behalf on a single human being I have ever depended upon.
Those are a short grouping of the overall things that will someday (probably soon) slip a pretty little……
I’m not going to talk about that. Point is, method decided upon. Point is if someone wasn’t coming home in an hour and I could find a decent place to hide my body I would do it. Because no on fucking cares about my recovery. They all fucking care that I don’t exit. Oh yes, plenty of care and love when I threaten. It’s like I have a lovely hostage. Only they don’t love my hostage enough to help him in any way. They promise and promise, it’s all FUCKING lies.
Why did I even try to get better? Why pull myself back up for this? The only thing I get is energy to kill myself. I have a task much larger than me, and all I asked for was another set of hands, someone to work with me on it. That is apparently impossible. Humans caring for each other is beyond others. I’m supposed to speak about God and hope to the homeless on Tuesday, I thought I had what I would say. I had it all together yesterday……. then fucking this. I work my ass off expecting them to come help me finish. They can’t even answer their phone. I have limited minutes on my phone, I have a card to fix that SOMEWHERE, but I can’t fucking find it because no one knows how to help…. all they have is drugs and lies.
I suggested maybe if I was a fucking alcoholic people would fucking care. Or some sort of interesting fucking addict. Of course I’d lose EVERYTHING, but maybe that’s what I need to fucking show, that I have nothing left to fucking lose.
I hate…. so much. Most of all I hate myself for not ending it sooner.