woofwag
Bad dog
- Sep 17, 2025
- 303
I can't. I haven't written out my notes physically or made the things I promised people or had one last nice goodbye. But I want to so bad. Idk how to stop thinking about it. One moment I'm applying to jobs, trying to get rental assistance, eating well, actually doing things to help myself, and the next I'm back here to this pit of despair. But I don't think I ever really left. I think I can distract myself, lie to myself about my intentions, but know that in the back of my head it's always there. I got out my sewing machine finally to work on the projects I promised people. I got a new notebook and wrote out one note. I made a new Instagram account to direct people to when I schedule my death post (because for some reason you can only do that on a business account idk why). It's not nearly as much as I need to do. But it's a very pointed direction.
The real thing of it is that I don't know if I can make myself try to accept recovery any longer. Even my therapist said that my suicidal thoughts weren't responding to her treatment... I'm so tired of being tired. How am I supposed to cope with losing my system? My therapist? My passion? My degree? My capacity to reply to the people I love? And pretty soon, if I don't get my shit together, my housing too. I am only trying to get a job again because I don't think I can finish prep by February 8th and if I have no money, well, I have to leave. That's just how it is. But I am still disabled, and the only jobs around here are physical jobs. So... I guess I really am going to destroy my body just as much as I've already destroyed my mind. That'll be fun to do in my last fucking moments. Or who knows! I'll keep living, and even more miserably than before!
Life is a gift? What a sick fucking joke. This is a curse. I just want to die so bad, so bad, especially right now it hurts
The real thing of it is that I don't know if I can make myself try to accept recovery any longer. Even my therapist said that my suicidal thoughts weren't responding to her treatment... I'm so tired of being tired. How am I supposed to cope with losing my system? My therapist? My passion? My degree? My capacity to reply to the people I love? And pretty soon, if I don't get my shit together, my housing too. I am only trying to get a job again because I don't think I can finish prep by February 8th and if I have no money, well, I have to leave. That's just how it is. But I am still disabled, and the only jobs around here are physical jobs. So... I guess I really am going to destroy my body just as much as I've already destroyed my mind. That'll be fun to do in my last fucking moments. Or who knows! I'll keep living, and even more miserably than before!
Life is a gift? What a sick fucking joke. This is a curse. I just want to die so bad, so bad, especially right now it hurts
