i have a perfect plan. a plan so perfect i’m convinced the universe is telling me to do it. that my life will be worth more when i’m dead. that my sacred duty is to take my own life. nothing around me tells me otherwise. nothing is enough to hold me down. not anymore. to only thing left to do is release attachments, and make peace with death. then i’ll be free.
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I feel that way more often than not. You’re not alone in that state of mind my friend. You’re not!
I have this.. detachment. I think society taught me that it’s wrong to feel this way. To be able to bury 4 people close to you within the span of 1 year and somehow not shed a tear.
There’s times at these “family funerals” that I wonder, who’s gonna be there to lay me to rest? Usually, it’s the sons of fathers and Mothers that lay the family to rest, but my cousins who helped me lay my family to rest are dead and gone now.
I look back at the “family funeral” (A term I use since every March we lose a family member.. It’s the family curse.) and I look at those vacant spots and I think, they’re not here to help me anymore..
The older I get I realize there are less and less people I love and more strangers in the family. Maybe I didn’t reach out enough. Maybe that’s just how growing up goes.
I don’t want to bury my family anymore because it scares the shit out of me who will be next. I sometimes think how much easier things would be If It Was Me.
My cousin committed suicide in early 2019. The family was devastated. Little did they know I had planned to kill myself the night before he did but I got too drunk and laid out. The next day I laid in bed all day because I was hungover, not caring about much until My mom called me and told me the news.
It’s tough. things will only get tougher the longer we hold on. But you can’t stop holding on. If it’s not for your sake it’s for someone elses. I think you’re stronger than you allow yourself to believe.
I only think that because i’ve felt how you do many days, nights. I felt like.. this is it.
Other times things were so fucking PERFECT, like too good to be true. And in that moment I still had the thought.. “This would be the perfect time to die”.
Anymore I just think something is broken in some of us. We only every think about death, dying, and how much better things would be.
I think the longer we stick around the chances are actually better that we do some good than bad.
For instance.. You wrote. I responded. You matter, because it brought ME here. Someone else who feels an emptiness inside.
If ever you just wanted to be HEARD. This is it. I hear you.
And i’m listening.