Story Laughing and crying

[Concorde]

Team SN here.

I don't remember the last time I cried (happy tears, new puppy-type situation tears) and laughed at the same time but my fucking anti-vomiting medication arrived today. Fuck you all (not you of SaSu, but everyone else). I'm in control of what's left of this life.

It is a fucking joy.

I also received more of what I suspect is pure enough SN (testing equipment arrives tomorrow). I have enough to catch the bus with either (or both) of the folks close to me who I suspect may wish to come but who still have no idea that finding the tools to do it in a civilized manner is hard in the US in 2025, but not impossible.

There is this monster of a former politician who just found out he has stage 4 pancreatic cancer and that he's "gonna die . . . it's a death sentence. But I already had a death sentence before last week too — we all do".

 

[Unlucky777]

I'm happy for you. Must be a relief to know you have your life in your own hands now and what you want to do with it going forward.

What if one (or both) of those close to you decide they don't want to do it?

 

[Concorde]

What if one (or both) of those close to you decide they don't want to do it?

I'm pretty sure neither of them will want to go. But I really didn't want to announce to either of them without at least having the ability to invite them along.

I'm glad I don't need to make any decisions tonight. But tellingly, I just spent a few hours throwing away stuff no one should have to throw away for me after I'm gone. For now, I kept the diary and saw some entries that reminded me that even the best years of my life were a fucking unhappy train wreck in ways I'd long since forgotten.

Like… at any given moment since I was 10, the following has been true: if I described the last 10 years to folks around me 10 years prior, they would have assured me that there's always hope and that I was being unreasonably pessimistic and that it gets better™. All the hopes, dreams, expectations, and suppositions we all had about who I'd be were all so wildly inaccurate and assumed a capitalism that wasn't late-stage.

I'm rambling, and would love for me to tell everyone around me, to whom I feel guilty for killing myself, "thank you. I had a fine life. It has stopped being fine and let me encourage you to understand that when you look longingly at the place I used to hold in your life, a place that I'm sure will feel empty, please consider that what you'll miss already happened long ago and no matter how long I live, won't happen again. I understand and appreciate nostalgia, but the humiliation and disappointment and downward spiral I have experienced here are at least as bad as what you believe you're losing with me gone."

High expectations, the ones I had for myself and the ones my family encouraged me to have (remarkably, my family is not disappointed in my many scholastic and career failures) are a cancer. I was young when I learned to not get excited about almost anything because disappointment tends to break me. I hadn't realized that I had clear expectations that adulthood would include dignity, meaningful work, and more money than rent+groceries+loans. But I did. And I'm supremely disappointed.