For those who have survived suicide.
I feel like every inhale I take is just steady preparation for the depression and anxiety and psychosis that’s coming when its time to exhale. I feel like every inhale I take is the last, like it’s the final breath before someone breaks in and kills me, before the whole world collapses around me and everything fades to black, and I become paralysed with numbness, slowly loosing sanity as I fall into deep delusion that everyone’s coming for me. I try to handle it, or hide from it if I’m being perfectly honest, but what happens when I stop hiding? When I finally let these demons grab me and pull me below the surface of reality and into the world of horrific and petrifying hallucination? Will it be the end of reality or the end of life?