I’m angry at myself. I wish I had begun laying the groundwork years ago – had pushed my family and friends away, been a dick so that they wouldn’t care. Now I am stuck.
Doctors tend to ask if you are suicidal. I’m not. I accepted a while ago that I could not bring myself to do anything that intentionally hurt the people I love. Since I first wrote this sentence down, a close friend of mine took his own life. Before this, I had begun to feel increasingly like my desire not to be here anymore was beginning to outweigh my desire not to break my family’s hearts. Because, much as I don’t see the appeal, I have to admit that it would. I struggled, in the wake of my friend’s suicide, to understand how I felt about […]