AgentAlaniKelso
Member
- Apr 1, 2020
- 18
Hi all.
I have the sense that this weekend will be when I ctb. Between my terrible marriage, my family who could give a fuck less about anyone other than themselves, and work related issues, it is clear to me that by continuing to fight and persevere, I'm actually doing more harm than good.
The kicker for me is my husband is so mean and abusive to my sweet little dog that I just can't anymore... I begged my sister to take him, until I can at least find him a new home, but of course, now that it's ME who needs something from her, it's a no go. I'll be taking my sweet little baby to the local animal shelter tomorrow. He's a purebred, actually really pretty, and barely a year old so it won't take long to get him anywhere better than here. That said, we have a bunch of animals- three dogs, two cats, a parrot, some ducks and chickens, and a variety of salt and fresh water aquariums. My husband says they are all "his" animals and never "ours". BUT this little pup is MY animal- the one animal that my husband refers to as "YOUR stupid fucking dog." This pup has been keeping me going for the last several months. But with the most recent episode of abuse by my husband, it's time for my little guy to go elsewhere. And it is tearing my heart in half to have to do this. But it's best for him. This sweet little dog doesn't deserve to be kicked, slapped, punched, or choked. I told my husband "no fucking more" and guess how that went over with the self-described "animal lover." Protecting my dog has kept me going. And now I need to let him go to save him or my husband WILL kill him.
Why not leave my husband? Yeah- the only way that's happening is in a body bag by his hand. He will shoot me if I told him I was leaving. And there is sure as fuck no way I'm checking out by the hand of some piece of shit narcissistic psychopath.
I've always struggled with depression. I have what I call an inherent death wish, meaning that, even from my early childhood, I've always wanted to be dead. Hell, my very first thought about killing myself was at six years old. And I actually tried at eight to suffocate myself under a blanket (didn't work for obvious reasons). Didn't have a bad childhood, had loving parents, and didn't have any major traumas. I've just always wanted to be dead. I always thought there was no way I'd make it to 15, then 18, then 20, then 25, then 30.... and then things got ok. But over the last two years, my "spirit" has been crushed out of me and looks like I won't be making it to 37... Hate to say I'm disappointed but I'm not. This is just the progression and inevitable conclusion of my life.
Honestly, more than anything else, the thing that I'm most dreading is that I'll miss out on Cyberpunk 2077... How fucking pathetic is that?! That was literally the only thing I was looking forward to in the coming months...
Two last things:
First, I'm a reasonably intelligent person. I've been a nurse for over a decade and have extensive ICU experience as well as leadership and admin. I could never wrap my head around my depression. But a couple of weeks ago it finally clicked in my brain- some people are not meant to be loved and not meant to have any value. And I am one of those people. I was lucky to have been loved by my parents. I have no real value as a human- I don't deserve love, I don't deserve to be hugged, I don't deserve to occupy the space that I do. My life and my passing will be of no real consequence to anyone- how exactly do you assign emotions to something of zero value? By CTBing, I'll be blinking myself out of existence. As for afterlife, well, I worked in ICU long enough and been around enough death to have come to the belief that when you die, youre just dead. No spirit, no afterlife, no divine presence- you just cease to Be. And I am 100% good with that. Seems way fucking more desirable than "oh yay, an eternal afterlife.... yippee." Fuck. That. I did my time, performed my duties, and saved some lives. All I want in return is this one thing.
Second, the deed- lots of remote areas around where I live. I ride a dirt bike and have scouted out some primo places in preparation for the bus. Leaving my cellphone/Apple Watch thingy at home. Bringing my shotgun. Going about 20 miles into the single track mountain trails and making my own path for the last mile or so. So as remote as I can be without raising suspicion at home. Hopefully will not be able to be tracked down by cell data, etc. Finding some cover for the bike and myself. Weighed my options- meds, suicide by motorcycle, firearms. Have a 6.5 Creedmoor rifle but the logistics seem burdensome and my arms aren't six feet long. Have some 9mm/10mm pistols but ICU nurse me has seen enough times where that shit doesn't always work as planned. Therefore, 12g shotgun birdshit vs 00 with a transoral anterior/posterior approach seems like a pretty sure bet. (I've always loved Kurt Cobain). Also considering behind the ear, like mastoid-to-mastoid. Either way, I don't think it will matter and results will be had relatively quickly. Been practicing with placement and angles. I know the anatomy so shouldn't be a problem. I don't want to be found, hence leaving the phone/watch at home and being so remote. Going for a whole sky burial approach- I know I'll get eaten by the wildlife and I'm actually pretty ok with that- at least I will be of value to our furry friends. A nice meal makes everyone feel better! Hoping it will be at least a few days before whatever is left of me is recovered.
Sorry for the excessively long post- but thanks to our wonderful society, the only place I feel I can safely talk about this stuff without being losing my career/house/guns is here. I just have to get this stuff out somewhere- anywhere. I just want someone to listen. To fucking care. To have someone, anyone say "I understand and I won't stop you." I have been suffering with these feelings for over 30 years and I just can't do this shit any more.
I have the sense that this weekend will be when I ctb. Between my terrible marriage, my family who could give a fuck less about anyone other than themselves, and work related issues, it is clear to me that by continuing to fight and persevere, I'm actually doing more harm than good.
The kicker for me is my husband is so mean and abusive to my sweet little dog that I just can't anymore... I begged my sister to take him, until I can at least find him a new home, but of course, now that it's ME who needs something from her, it's a no go. I'll be taking my sweet little baby to the local animal shelter tomorrow. He's a purebred, actually really pretty, and barely a year old so it won't take long to get him anywhere better than here. That said, we have a bunch of animals- three dogs, two cats, a parrot, some ducks and chickens, and a variety of salt and fresh water aquariums. My husband says they are all "his" animals and never "ours". BUT this little pup is MY animal- the one animal that my husband refers to as "YOUR stupid fucking dog." This pup has been keeping me going for the last several months. But with the most recent episode of abuse by my husband, it's time for my little guy to go elsewhere. And it is tearing my heart in half to have to do this. But it's best for him. This sweet little dog doesn't deserve to be kicked, slapped, punched, or choked. I told my husband "no fucking more" and guess how that went over with the self-described "animal lover." Protecting my dog has kept me going. And now I need to let him go to save him or my husband WILL kill him.
Why not leave my husband? Yeah- the only way that's happening is in a body bag by his hand. He will shoot me if I told him I was leaving. And there is sure as fuck no way I'm checking out by the hand of some piece of shit narcissistic psychopath.
I've always struggled with depression. I have what I call an inherent death wish, meaning that, even from my early childhood, I've always wanted to be dead. Hell, my very first thought about killing myself was at six years old. And I actually tried at eight to suffocate myself under a blanket (didn't work for obvious reasons). Didn't have a bad childhood, had loving parents, and didn't have any major traumas. I've just always wanted to be dead. I always thought there was no way I'd make it to 15, then 18, then 20, then 25, then 30.... and then things got ok. But over the last two years, my "spirit" has been crushed out of me and looks like I won't be making it to 37... Hate to say I'm disappointed but I'm not. This is just the progression and inevitable conclusion of my life.
Honestly, more than anything else, the thing that I'm most dreading is that I'll miss out on Cyberpunk 2077... How fucking pathetic is that?! That was literally the only thing I was looking forward to in the coming months...
Two last things:
First, I'm a reasonably intelligent person. I've been a nurse for over a decade and have extensive ICU experience as well as leadership and admin. I could never wrap my head around my depression. But a couple of weeks ago it finally clicked in my brain- some people are not meant to be loved and not meant to have any value. And I am one of those people. I was lucky to have been loved by my parents. I have no real value as a human- I don't deserve love, I don't deserve to be hugged, I don't deserve to occupy the space that I do. My life and my passing will be of no real consequence to anyone- how exactly do you assign emotions to something of zero value? By CTBing, I'll be blinking myself out of existence. As for afterlife, well, I worked in ICU long enough and been around enough death to have come to the belief that when you die, youre just dead. No spirit, no afterlife, no divine presence- you just cease to Be. And I am 100% good with that. Seems way fucking more desirable than "oh yay, an eternal afterlife.... yippee." Fuck. That. I did my time, performed my duties, and saved some lives. All I want in return is this one thing.
Second, the deed- lots of remote areas around where I live. I ride a dirt bike and have scouted out some primo places in preparation for the bus. Leaving my cellphone/Apple Watch thingy at home. Bringing my shotgun. Going about 20 miles into the single track mountain trails and making my own path for the last mile or so. So as remote as I can be without raising suspicion at home. Hopefully will not be able to be tracked down by cell data, etc. Finding some cover for the bike and myself. Weighed my options- meds, suicide by motorcycle, firearms. Have a 6.5 Creedmoor rifle but the logistics seem burdensome and my arms aren't six feet long. Have some 9mm/10mm pistols but ICU nurse me has seen enough times where that shit doesn't always work as planned. Therefore, 12g shotgun birdshit vs 00 with a transoral anterior/posterior approach seems like a pretty sure bet. (I've always loved Kurt Cobain). Also considering behind the ear, like mastoid-to-mastoid. Either way, I don't think it will matter and results will be had relatively quickly. Been practicing with placement and angles. I know the anatomy so shouldn't be a problem. I don't want to be found, hence leaving the phone/watch at home and being so remote. Going for a whole sky burial approach- I know I'll get eaten by the wildlife and I'm actually pretty ok with that- at least I will be of value to our furry friends. A nice meal makes everyone feel better! Hoping it will be at least a few days before whatever is left of me is recovered.
Sorry for the excessively long post- but thanks to our wonderful society, the only place I feel I can safely talk about this stuff without being losing my career/house/guns is here. I just have to get this stuff out somewhere- anywhere. I just want someone to listen. To fucking care. To have someone, anyone say "I understand and I won't stop you." I have been suffering with these feelings for over 30 years and I just can't do this shit any more.
