Grandexit
Experienced
- Dec 4, 2019
- 200
I have only one real family member in this world, my mother. Through her choices we moved to the opposite end of the Earth, and never really flourished where we are now. We're somewhat financially comfortable, but that's all. Where we came from is pure shit, so there's no going back.
I made bad choices and had such a fucked attachment style that I never developed any close relationships with anyone. No spouse, no kids, no caring friends.
I spoke to my mother on the phone, she's buying a new place and that's almost pushed her to the breaking point emotionally. She's not been sleeping, her health went wonky.... over a difficult escrow. As she's describing it to me, I'm astonished at how little I care.
If something like a difficult escrow is enough to make her world fall apart, getting a call that her only child has been found blue and cold will
surely be her demise. I have told her that I want to end it. I hate everyday I wake up. Every day I shamble forward is killing me too. I just want it to end. I've done the therapy, I've done the pills. Even if they worked (nothing did, huge shocker), there's an entire wasted life that I'm not going to be able to fix.
tldr; Who's suffering is more important? Do I owe it to myself to find peace, or do I owe it to my mother to keep grinding through to save her the pain? It's always been my plan to ctb after her passing. I could be looking at anywhere from five to 15 years waiting for my turn to exit. And I am so, so fucking done with life.
I made bad choices and had such a fucked attachment style that I never developed any close relationships with anyone. No spouse, no kids, no caring friends.
I spoke to my mother on the phone, she's buying a new place and that's almost pushed her to the breaking point emotionally. She's not been sleeping, her health went wonky.... over a difficult escrow. As she's describing it to me, I'm astonished at how little I care.
If something like a difficult escrow is enough to make her world fall apart, getting a call that her only child has been found blue and cold will
surely be her demise. I have told her that I want to end it. I hate everyday I wake up. Every day I shamble forward is killing me too. I just want it to end. I've done the therapy, I've done the pills. Even if they worked (nothing did, huge shocker), there's an entire wasted life that I'm not going to be able to fix.
tldr; Who's suffering is more important? Do I owe it to myself to find peace, or do I owe it to my mother to keep grinding through to save her the pain? It's always been my plan to ctb after her passing. I could be looking at anywhere from five to 15 years waiting for my turn to exit. And I am so, so fucking done with life.
Last edited: