I came so close last night to killing myself. I had the rope around my neck with a bottle of pills in my hand alternating between sobbing and sitting numb for two hours. Eventually I became exhausted and decided to just go to bed. Now I'm here, I checked out of my hotel, got breakfast, took a shower. It's odd to pass people in public and they have no clue how close to death you were. For all you know they're in the same boat, alive when they nearly weren't just a few hours ago. And now you have to continue on with your life. Tidy up the apartment, get ready for lectures at school, wash your clothes for work. The world just keeps moving on.
I'm not happy I lived and didn't do it. I'm not furious that I didn't either. I wish I had gone through with it but I know there will be another opportunity. But going about life when you were at such a rock bottom 12 hours ago feels strange in a way that can't be described. I've done this before, backed out of an attempt and carried on at life. But I was much closer last night than before. Some inbetween of my three serious attempts and all the other 'almosts'. Living is hard. Dying is hard. Living when you planned on dying is strange.
I'm not happy I lived and didn't do it. I'm not furious that I didn't either. I wish I had gone through with it but I know there will be another opportunity. But going about life when you were at such a rock bottom 12 hours ago feels strange in a way that can't be described. I've done this before, backed out of an attempt and carried on at life. But I was much closer last night than before. Some inbetween of my three serious attempts and all the other 'almosts'. Living is hard. Dying is hard. Living when you planned on dying is strange.
