Suicidal ideation is my security blanket. It’s always there for me, to comfort me, when I have no one else.
I am supposed to be strong for my kids, for my mother, for my job. No one respects the weak and unbalanced. I am a show, a puppet. I go through this life looking for happiness yet never finding it, then pretending I’m fine, when I am not.
If I disappeared off the face of the earth, it wouldn’t matter. My kids would grieve and miss me, I know. My mother might even be upset. Otherwise, I’ve made no mark in this world so that my non-existence […]