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KenDuh

KenDuh

Member
Nov 1, 2025
77
I was feeling bad, really bad. Not only did I have a desire for death, I also could not find joy in anything. My head was a mess, he asked me how I was and I stood silent. I didn't know where to start, so I just talked. In all my blabbering, I said that I am not capable of killing myself. He stops me right there, and tells me that I'm capable, to not think otherwise, but he also says that I shouldn't be bothered by the suicidal idea, that it was mine and I should let it stay, but not disturb me.

We talk for a while, about movies, dreams, books, poems, we talked. I could, but I won't describe every little detail, first because I'm lazy enough, second, that will stay between the two of us.

I realized that I'm not going to the psychologist because I'm suicidal, I'm going because I feel bad while being suicidal. In the present moment I don't know what to choose, death or life, but I'm working on it. He never asked me to live, as he will never ask me to die, it's my life, so it's mine to decide, I'm just not wise enough, and it's scary, now I'm the only one responsible. The existence is asking, and I shall answer, I just hope I'm worthy of my decision.

My head is a mess, something tells me that it will forever stay that way, let's hope not.
 
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