
Wannabehappy
Member
- Nov 29, 2022
- 39
so. sorry but I will write through a translator, I'm good with English but I have absolutely no fucking strength to arrange it somehow neatly. The time has come when I know that I, as me, this person - do not want to imagine myself entering the year 2023. I would like this page, this thread to serve as a kind of diary, a fucking farewell letter until Christmas. Why to them? I'll get to that in a moment. Life has been fucking with me forever, I remember that I had my first suicidal thoughts many years ago, still as a small child who did not know what kind of crap life would prepare for him. This year I just want to let go, I don't want to complain about how hard I had in my life, how fucked up my relationship with my mother was after my father's death, how really I was left alone because I'm an adult who fell ill with fucking depression and other shit, destroying along with all the relatives. In this world I will leave a son whom I have not known, and I will not be able to know him. I would not be a good father. Like my parents, I couldn't love this man. I was afraid and today I know that my departure from my woman, from this child, was the best I could give them. It's been over 3 years since then, I tried new relationships, I fucked them up completely. And today it's been over a month. a month in which I understood that my every behavior, how terrible a person I am, how much I can't handle anything, was the reason for my failures. I'm someone who never wanted this life, who didn't even deserve it. I feel that this body is a prison for this soul, though I don't believe in anything. ordered SN, delivery by December 15th. If anyone wants to read this thread, sometimes ask me something - I will be grateful. This is the only place where I have, perhaps a false impression, that there will be at least one person here who will accompany me in these last, long days. Christmas is the moment that crushes me the most every year, the moment when I see neighbors who invite the whole family, I cover the windows and unscrew another bottle. I need that last impulse, that bitterness of motherfucking life, that last spark of confirmation that what I'm going to do is right.