It'sNotLookingGood
You Know I Couldn't Last
- Mar 1, 2020
- 221
I reached my ctb date on Nov 13th 2020. Had everything possible prepared and planned for:
Suicide note - ready.
Hotel - booked.
Date - carefully picked to be several weeks after the nearest family birthday, and still several weeks before Christmas (so as not to ruin either eternally).
Research - done thoroughly.
Purchases - SN and every drug I could want to help facilitate it and make death more peaceful.
Water/Food fast - done.
Room - tidied.
PC - backed up and wiped.
etc. etc. etc.
But I didn't do it., I just sat in the hotel room for the night. So I figured over the next few days, that if I didn't kill myself when I had the perfect opportunity, then I can't keep acting like I'm gonna kms anytime soon. And if I'm not gonna ctb, I can't keep living like this, so I literally have no choice therefore than to THRIVE - somehow. Simply being alive (but not living) is unbearable, and if I'm not going to ctb, then the only other option is to THRIVE. I didn't kill myself - so there is shit to get done. Get busy. Get shit done. This was the mentality.
But I feel that will and energy leaving me.
In the months since Nov 13 I picked up daily good habits (lifting, breathing exercises, yoga), received a conditional job offer, and moved out for the first time ever into a house with five friends. Stuff one or two years ago that would have seemed like fantasy, and I wouldn't have thought possible. As in I never thought the opportunity would ever present itself for me, nor that I'd be fit to take it.
For some period I thought I might be on a good path. Obviously depression is something I will have to deal with forever, but maybe I can do okay-enough at staying on top of it? It looked like I was doing a largely decent job, for a minute.
But I'm still exactly the same, really. I am still the person I hate,
I am still followed everywhere by depression, and it clings to me. It is always present, and at some times it is about controllable, and manageable, and at many time it is not.
And it drains me. And it stops me from being the person I could be. Life feels like like trying to spark a match under running water. And I really miss my spark, because I don't see it often. And if things were different, I think I know who I would like to be, and who I could be. But the faucet is always on, and the water always running, so my spark is scarcely seen.
And this is how I feel always, this is life to me.
So I can just about force myself to do all of this stuff, and I can make all this effort, and, to the outsider, I can even largely make it look like I'm doing a good job at it. But it's misery, really.
I still feel devastatingly alone. And I must accept this is how I will always feel, because it is a mental state too, not just circumstantial. I am loved by lots of people. And I just moved in with five friends. But they are they, and only I am I - and therefore I still feel utterly alone.
And I feel alone because everything is so hard for me. Even if I like people, and they for some reason like me too - it is always so so hard. It's so rarely easy. I always have to work for it, it never comes easy, anxiety-free, naturally.
Everything is just so so hard, Everything, even the good things, the things I might enjoy, are a momentous task.
Ans that's just very very draining.
It's very very draining, when to even enjoy the easiest, simplest things, is a battle.
Suicide note - ready.
Hotel - booked.
Date - carefully picked to be several weeks after the nearest family birthday, and still several weeks before Christmas (so as not to ruin either eternally).
Research - done thoroughly.
Purchases - SN and every drug I could want to help facilitate it and make death more peaceful.
Water/Food fast - done.
Room - tidied.
PC - backed up and wiped.
etc. etc. etc.
But I didn't do it., I just sat in the hotel room for the night. So I figured over the next few days, that if I didn't kill myself when I had the perfect opportunity, then I can't keep acting like I'm gonna kms anytime soon. And if I'm not gonna ctb, I can't keep living like this, so I literally have no choice therefore than to THRIVE - somehow. Simply being alive (but not living) is unbearable, and if I'm not going to ctb, then the only other option is to THRIVE. I didn't kill myself - so there is shit to get done. Get busy. Get shit done. This was the mentality.
But I feel that will and energy leaving me.
In the months since Nov 13 I picked up daily good habits (lifting, breathing exercises, yoga), received a conditional job offer, and moved out for the first time ever into a house with five friends. Stuff one or two years ago that would have seemed like fantasy, and I wouldn't have thought possible. As in I never thought the opportunity would ever present itself for me, nor that I'd be fit to take it.
For some period I thought I might be on a good path. Obviously depression is something I will have to deal with forever, but maybe I can do okay-enough at staying on top of it? It looked like I was doing a largely decent job, for a minute.
But I'm still exactly the same, really. I am still the person I hate,
I am still followed everywhere by depression, and it clings to me. It is always present, and at some times it is about controllable, and manageable, and at many time it is not.
And it drains me. And it stops me from being the person I could be. Life feels like like trying to spark a match under running water. And I really miss my spark, because I don't see it often. And if things were different, I think I know who I would like to be, and who I could be. But the faucet is always on, and the water always running, so my spark is scarcely seen.
And this is how I feel always, this is life to me.
So I can just about force myself to do all of this stuff, and I can make all this effort, and, to the outsider, I can even largely make it look like I'm doing a good job at it. But it's misery, really.
I still feel devastatingly alone. And I must accept this is how I will always feel, because it is a mental state too, not just circumstantial. I am loved by lots of people. And I just moved in with five friends. But they are they, and only I am I - and therefore I still feel utterly alone.
And I feel alone because everything is so hard for me. Even if I like people, and they for some reason like me too - it is always so so hard. It's so rarely easy. I always have to work for it, it never comes easy, anxiety-free, naturally.
Everything is just so so hard, Everything, even the good things, the things I might enjoy, are a momentous task.
Ans that's just very very draining.
It's very very draining, when to even enjoy the easiest, simplest things, is a battle.
