sincerely dead
It's not me, it's you
- Jun 17, 2023
- 318
hi, i'm illicit. and this is entry four.
you can find entries 1-3 here:
entry one
entry two
entry three
i don't know how to receive love. i become particularly aware of that fact when the sun starts to go down, and the golden light pours into the dark room i've been rotting in. the hour in the day where the world is most beautiful: that is the moment i want to die the most. it's when i realize that my anxiety - my trauma - is terrified to face anything that isn't dark. i wonder why i just can't seem to get better, and perhaps it's because i don't even want to bother. i've tried so hard for so long, i've carried the weight longer than most people could. my muscles are tearing, my limbs have grown weary. yet the world looks at me and calls me selfish. a waste of space yet simultaneously a requirement to stay alive. they tell me to just fight harder while throwing obstacles in my face. they tell me break free from the poisonous mindset i've known my whole life while injecting me with their own venom. i hate this world and everything it does to one another. it knocks you down, tramples you, and snatches away all odds of surviving. yet it mocks you, diminishes you, scolds you for wanting out.
everyone is gung-ho on the whole "no one should control your life" but there is nothing but painful silence when you petition that "no one should control your death" because in reality, people want to control the control in a way that benefits them, in a way that gives them control but exempts them from responsibility.
i'm sitting here, suicidal than ever, but i'm reminding myself there is still love around me, i just need to receive it. my golden retriever is snuggling up against me - his whiskers graze my cheek as i go in to give him fifteen kisses and the most sincere "i love you" that has ever escaped my lips. i am reminded that i know how to love. and what a shame it would be if i didn't allow my dog to give me the love i love giving him.
perhaps i do know how to receive love. perhaps i do it all the time. and maybe the golden light won't blind me at sunset one day; maybe i'll learn to let it filter through.
don't get me wrong. i want to die. every waking millisecond. i hate this world and everything about it. but when people ask me why i'm still here if i truly am so suicidal, i am reminded that it is because of love. pure, unfiltered, golden love.
nonetheless, i am petrified.
you can find entries 1-3 here:
entry one
entry two
entry three
i don't know how to receive love. i become particularly aware of that fact when the sun starts to go down, and the golden light pours into the dark room i've been rotting in. the hour in the day where the world is most beautiful: that is the moment i want to die the most. it's when i realize that my anxiety - my trauma - is terrified to face anything that isn't dark. i wonder why i just can't seem to get better, and perhaps it's because i don't even want to bother. i've tried so hard for so long, i've carried the weight longer than most people could. my muscles are tearing, my limbs have grown weary. yet the world looks at me and calls me selfish. a waste of space yet simultaneously a requirement to stay alive. they tell me to just fight harder while throwing obstacles in my face. they tell me break free from the poisonous mindset i've known my whole life while injecting me with their own venom. i hate this world and everything it does to one another. it knocks you down, tramples you, and snatches away all odds of surviving. yet it mocks you, diminishes you, scolds you for wanting out.
everyone is gung-ho on the whole "no one should control your life" but there is nothing but painful silence when you petition that "no one should control your death" because in reality, people want to control the control in a way that benefits them, in a way that gives them control but exempts them from responsibility.
i'm sitting here, suicidal than ever, but i'm reminding myself there is still love around me, i just need to receive it. my golden retriever is snuggling up against me - his whiskers graze my cheek as i go in to give him fifteen kisses and the most sincere "i love you" that has ever escaped my lips. i am reminded that i know how to love. and what a shame it would be if i didn't allow my dog to give me the love i love giving him.
perhaps i do know how to receive love. perhaps i do it all the time. and maybe the golden light won't blind me at sunset one day; maybe i'll learn to let it filter through.
don't get me wrong. i want to die. every waking millisecond. i hate this world and everything about it. but when people ask me why i'm still here if i truly am so suicidal, i am reminded that it is because of love. pure, unfiltered, golden love.
nonetheless, i am petrified.
