Permission

I haven’t had my first therapy session yet. It’s next Wednesday. I scheduled it this past week. However, at this point in time, I feel like no amount of therapy will help. No amount of medication will help. I just feel that I’m fundamentally wrong. I feel that suicide for me isn’t a matter of being unhappy or having my back against the wall. It’s just a simple means of escape. It’s a route to take because I feel like I serve no purpose. I know there are ways to remedy this besides suicide. Ways to improve myself and become something. There are dozens of different solutions. It’s not a matter of me having no way out but suicide. I just feel like I’m nothing and so that I should just stop existing. It’s like I need someone to tell me that I have permission to exist. That my purpose and my existence means something. I don’t know. I’ve been listening to this song on repeat. It’s from the pillows who did Fooly Cooly. I remember watching it in middle school and high school and it would always cheer me up for some reason. Like it told me it was ok that nothing made sense. I watched it again yesterday. I doesn’t exactly do the same thing it did for me back then, but it was still enjoyable.