Intelligent_Panic99
Student
- Jan 4, 2022
- 114
I thought I would share my letter with you all - because I can't show it to anyone else. Probably ever. I might hide it somewhere for some future unknown person to read. lol. It's been more like a writing exercise to help me process my desire to ctb.
So - some things may not be totally accurate. Also, I changed N to PB.
_________________
Today is my last day.
This is a note that maybe no one will read.
Dear No one,
Today is my last day. I have packed a bag. It's very small and I only need the clothes I'll wear to die in and the makeup I'll need to look good for whoever finds me. I also have small brown bottle and inside the small brown bottle 100ml of pentobarbital (PB).
They say I'll fall asleep in less than 10 minutes, a lot less generally – and die in an hour or maybe a few, but it won't matter I'll be sleeping peacefully until the end. There won't be time to change my mind or call for help.
I also need the nail scissors to open the bottle and the small bottle of Baileys to cover the aftertaste. Plus, it will just be a nice treat for having done the hard work of gulping down something that probably tastes worse than pure alcohol, maybe worse than gasoline. I don't like Bailey's but I think I will tomorrow.
I've thought this out. I've planned this. This is not impulsive. I'll leave after this missive is sent. I'll drive to large city that's always awake and loud and drunk. Where the hotels are so huge, I can get lost. No one will notice if I don't come out of the room for many days. I do not love this city. I would rather have gone to New York, but I was afraid to fly with the PB, being illegal and dangerous.
This is selfish and I know I will hurt someone. There are two people on this earth that I wish never to hurt. That I would shield with my body to keep them from feeling harm. That I would cut off my own arm before seeing them abandoned. But I am also saving them from more harm. They need stability. I am the opposite of that. I'm like the rope latter spread between two high cliffs, my ropes are fraying down to the last strand. I cannot hold them up.
And worse than all of that, I am selfish. I am selfish for putting my pain before theirs. I don't deserve them; they deserve someone far better than me. The deserve to not be influenced by my moods and unhappiness. They deserve to be free of trying to shield and take care of me for being so weak. (I hope the puppies will bring them some comfort because that is why I got them and have raised them so far.)
The thing is, I always have this feeling like someone has their hands around my neck. Sometimes I go crazy and try to shake them off. Sometimes I give in and let them choke me. Tomorrow, I will let them finish the job.
I hate who I am. The person with their hands around my neck is just me. I hate who I am. The more I hate the harder it gets to breathe. I always feel unimportant to everyone else on the planet. I think it will be a while before anyone misses me (5 days or more perhaps) and then you, no one, will all only be sad because I am dead. If you just never saw me again, you wouldn't be sad. You would forget I existed eventually and then how is that different than dead to you?
Don't be sad, anyone who reads this, because remember I am getting the thing I've wanted for years. Don't be sad for me. If you want to be sad for yourself, you must ask: but what have I really lost?
No one, I have to go. I can feel my heart in my chest. I can feel the fear that goes along with ignoring your body's imperative to live. What happens when you die, no one? When I get to the other side maybe I will tell you. j
So - some things may not be totally accurate. Also, I changed N to PB.
_________________
Today is my last day.
This is a note that maybe no one will read.
Dear No one,
Today is my last day. I have packed a bag. It's very small and I only need the clothes I'll wear to die in and the makeup I'll need to look good for whoever finds me. I also have small brown bottle and inside the small brown bottle 100ml of pentobarbital (PB).
They say I'll fall asleep in less than 10 minutes, a lot less generally – and die in an hour or maybe a few, but it won't matter I'll be sleeping peacefully until the end. There won't be time to change my mind or call for help.
I also need the nail scissors to open the bottle and the small bottle of Baileys to cover the aftertaste. Plus, it will just be a nice treat for having done the hard work of gulping down something that probably tastes worse than pure alcohol, maybe worse than gasoline. I don't like Bailey's but I think I will tomorrow.
I've thought this out. I've planned this. This is not impulsive. I'll leave after this missive is sent. I'll drive to large city that's always awake and loud and drunk. Where the hotels are so huge, I can get lost. No one will notice if I don't come out of the room for many days. I do not love this city. I would rather have gone to New York, but I was afraid to fly with the PB, being illegal and dangerous.
This is selfish and I know I will hurt someone. There are two people on this earth that I wish never to hurt. That I would shield with my body to keep them from feeling harm. That I would cut off my own arm before seeing them abandoned. But I am also saving them from more harm. They need stability. I am the opposite of that. I'm like the rope latter spread between two high cliffs, my ropes are fraying down to the last strand. I cannot hold them up.
And worse than all of that, I am selfish. I am selfish for putting my pain before theirs. I don't deserve them; they deserve someone far better than me. The deserve to not be influenced by my moods and unhappiness. They deserve to be free of trying to shield and take care of me for being so weak. (I hope the puppies will bring them some comfort because that is why I got them and have raised them so far.)
The thing is, I always have this feeling like someone has their hands around my neck. Sometimes I go crazy and try to shake them off. Sometimes I give in and let them choke me. Tomorrow, I will let them finish the job.
I hate who I am. The person with their hands around my neck is just me. I hate who I am. The more I hate the harder it gets to breathe. I always feel unimportant to everyone else on the planet. I think it will be a while before anyone misses me (5 days or more perhaps) and then you, no one, will all only be sad because I am dead. If you just never saw me again, you wouldn't be sad. You would forget I existed eventually and then how is that different than dead to you?
Don't be sad, anyone who reads this, because remember I am getting the thing I've wanted for years. Don't be sad for me. If you want to be sad for yourself, you must ask: but what have I really lost?
No one, I have to go. I can feel my heart in my chest. I can feel the fear that goes along with ignoring your body's imperative to live. What happens when you die, no one? When I get to the other side maybe I will tell you. j
