I'm terrified.
Not just the fear of injury or failure, but beyond life itself. This is the only existence I know. I want there to be a God and afterlife, so I know I can see my deceased family after passing. I have faith, but not a guarantee. All I can do is hope.
As much as I want to die, I equally want to live. I love going to the arcade and playing some of the rarest cabs in the country, I love going to places with live music, hearing the imperfect guitar strings that are muffled in studio recordings. I love cooking and going on hikes, I love seeing the birds chirp against the bird feeder before they soar across the sky. And I definitely love talking to my friends about the most niche things, letting the absurdity of simple concepts generate hours if not days of laughter.
I hate living with this SA and forced therapy trauma and I hate desiring death, because I love life so much. I fall asleep and sometimes feel myself being abused in the sheets. I hate venting to people and hearing them rave about suggesting therapy because it makes my head spin and almost crying it if someone pushes it. I hate how I've ruined friendships because of my mental health, and terrified to form more because I don't want to hurt them. I go to a retail job with a family that raised me to go to medical school. And I suffer from massive emotional overwhelms for at least a decade where I feel like the only way I can escape is death, lasting for up to a few hours, leading me to the ER twice for severe suicidial thoughts.
I'm lost in emotional limbo, I only want to go if I know I am fully ready. I'm not. I'm afraid I'm just gonna spontaneously CTB in emotional overwhelm one day, and not get that peace I've been yearning, either in a well thought suicide plan or living a long happy life.