A large part of me just wants to stop. To let go of being. A stronger part forces me on. I don’t know if it would be worth all the pain and despair it would cause to my loved ones, just to be free from being this. To not have to hate myself, or the world anymore. No more anger, or frustration.
Probably not. Probably the ruining of 3 other lives (and the ripples out to others beyond them) is not worth my escape from this being.
But I can’t stop thinking about it. I keep coming back to it, again and again. I want out. I want to stop. I don’t want this anymore. This is not a life worth living. This is not a life that can be salvaged. I’m broken, or evil, or whatever, but there’s no solution for it. There’s no cure. There is no version of me that is content or ok with the world. And being this hurts. Being in this mind hurts. And I want it to stop. But I also won’t let it. Because…fear of death?