LastLoveLetter
Persephone
- Mar 28, 2021
- 657
I was hoping to be able to get everything off my chest a final time. To share a succinct, meaningful goodbye. Shine a light on the systemic failures that led to my impending death, the history of trauma, the disabilities and illnesses and pain. Find a little catharsis for the many years of suffering. Thank those who have supported me here along the way.
But I can't. I just can't. I'm sorry. My resources are depleted, my brain is mush. I'm so, so tired. Everything feels heavy, laborious, lifeless. It's as though the life has already been sucked out of me over the years. Now, it's simply time to finish off the empty shell that remains.
In a little over a month, that's the plan but plans don't always work out and to be honest, I may have to go before then. I'm deteriorating rapidly, to the point I'm not sure I'll even have the physical capacity to travel to Beachy Head in September no matter how meticulous my planning is or what preparations I make.
I wanted to write letters. Letters to the people who abused me and destroyed my body, mind and soul, that they'll never read. Letters to the healthcare system that left me to rot in isolation. And letters to the people I loved, some of whom are no longer alive. But all I have left is emptiness and exhaustion. It's time to sleep.
But I can't. I just can't. I'm sorry. My resources are depleted, my brain is mush. I'm so, so tired. Everything feels heavy, laborious, lifeless. It's as though the life has already been sucked out of me over the years. Now, it's simply time to finish off the empty shell that remains.
In a little over a month, that's the plan but plans don't always work out and to be honest, I may have to go before then. I'm deteriorating rapidly, to the point I'm not sure I'll even have the physical capacity to travel to Beachy Head in September no matter how meticulous my planning is or what preparations I make.
I wanted to write letters. Letters to the people who abused me and destroyed my body, mind and soul, that they'll never read. Letters to the healthcare system that left me to rot in isolation. And letters to the people I loved, some of whom are no longer alive. But all I have left is emptiness and exhaustion. It's time to sleep.