Inevitablity

Guilt is part of why I feel I deserve to die; it’s also why I’m alive.  I was going to end it all around Christmas of 18’, but here I am at the beginning of 2020.  I kept running through my head the consequences, the people who’d find me, or clean up after me, identifying me, burying me.  I’ve never wanted to traumatize anyone with my death, I just wanted to disappear.  And so my guilt for how my death by methods accessible to me now would affect others- it kept me alive.  here I am at the beginning of 2020.  The inevitability of suicide seems certain as death itself.  So does the inevitability or abandonment, though, despite my bpd- I try to hope that that fear is unfounded.  I’m in a good relationship.  I mean, for complicated reasons my needs and wants tend to fall on the wayside but.  It’s not that important honestly.   I try to just enjoy what we have and not want or expect too much.  In a previous post I talked about how no matter what I have or what’s going on, the emptiness follows me.  And that’s no one’s fault. I’m just broken- my breaking is inevitable.