Next day update: Survival instinct and survived.
I couldn't fully go through with it. I've never before felt such a sense of dread and adrenaline in that last agonizing hour. I got to the point where I had my SN and as I lifted the glass and I was about to drink it, I couldn't go through with it.
It's so strange, even though it was what I wanted. Now it's the next day it's even still what I want, despite the doubts I created the night before.
I think I turned it all into too much of a ritual, by the time it came I was exhausted. I fasted for 30 hours. Got myself ready both looking and feeling my best. I spent the whole day practically preparing. I organised everything for after I would be dead. I got rid of anything that needed to be disposed of . I wrote about 30 pages of notes in the last 7 days. I spent the majority of the day listening to random songs that meant something to me that I had only assorted in the last day. I also had the opportunity to have a generally better day. I was alone and had all the time for myself. Weirdly enough in contrast also, I also really enjoyed in trying to prepare to die. It felt so fulfilling. I felt such a strong sense of conviction to get it done and go. I wasn't just nervous, I was also excited.
I had only just got everything done. I read through all my notes again, and wrote another note to capture my final feelings before I died.
I think what eventually broke me was the waiting. I was listening to music as I was going step by step to take the SN in the final hour.
I kept on thinking and thought all terrible thoughts.
What if there was actually something worse after this. What if right now was supposed to be my most fortunate. What if I had in fact lived hundreds or thousands of lives as just an insect, pathetic and pointless. Worse I wouldn't even know it. What if again, something like that was what came after this. That there was an unimaginable suffering in death worse or equal to life.
All the time, I just wanted to go to sleep, to forget all this. Both life and death.
And suddenly then I thought, what if the only reason it feels nice to go to sleep is because you get to wake up. You get to both fall asleep and wake up. The satisfying lingering states of consciousness. It's actually a process you're feeling not an an end. That perhaps not existing isn't even the same as the closest way we want to imagine it.
All of these thoughts terrified me. Maybe if my ritual and method were instant, everything might have been easier. Slowly taking pills at intervals and just laying there waiting hurt.
I also kept on thinking about an aftermath here in "this".
I though about how my body, all of this would be discovered the next day. It would traumatise. It would be just another burden to me and the world. I was also living and thinking like I was still here, and no matter what we do we can't do otherwise. I felt bad that I couldn't just dispose of my own body. That someone else would have to deal with it.
I couldn't stop thinking about the effects of tomorrow even though there would for me be no tommorow. I also knew and now even know, that I didn't want a tomorrow. It feels that way just typing here.
Anyways sorry for the long post.
Even if it felt like to me a possible superficial custom, thanks to anyone that said any kind and supportive words.
Whenever I saw posts like these they seemed bloated and shallow in that way. Hollow in depth of meaning from both the sender and receiver.
Now though, I realise no matter what they really are, that they are graciously comforting and still help.
This is probably one of the worst fear and feelings anyone could ever possibly have. The downright unknowable dread.
I'm probably not going to abandon this, I truly and honestly want to try again because this still feels like something true to who I am. How I feel and desire.
I've learnt a few lessons. I'll also see if I can change or anything will change in my life in the meantime. If pushing myself to this point will allow me to change my own and others perspectives whatever the outcome.
