I think about suicide each and every day, the thought of it won’t leave me for long. Sometimes the thought of it lurks in the background, other times forcing me to confront my demons. I do find it comforting to know it will all be over. I’ve attempted, was it a serious attempt, well yes as I hoped I’d die, but it just wasn’t going to happen, I’ve learnt since then though.
I don’t know where I fit in, here in this world around me. I feel I’ve spent my life dreaming about achieving something half decent that I can hold onto. In the past it didn’t matter as I had time on my side but now I’m rapidly approaching fifty I know time has run out and I will have achieved nothing, worse still, I will die alone and unloved, yes, I couldn’t even achieve happiness in the romantic area either. I have no one in my life, estranged from any family long ago, no one ever calls me, I won’t be missed.
I am alone, I’ve been alone, I will be alone, and I’m sure I’ll die alone. I hate being alone, and yes, I will end my life because of it. When I see so many in relationships around me I automatically think of hanging my ugly, lonely self. It’s not just about being alone, it’s the feeling of not being wanted. I think so many people in this world have been left behind in so many areas of life that suicide does seem as an escape from it all. This month represents my final act on this planet, the curtain will fall in a few weeks and I will be no more.