I won't be there for the aftermath....
so why do I think about it at all? Why do I think about how they'll react, beyond the basic empathy I feel for those around me who I love and who my death will destroy. Why do I imagine the ways people will find out, how my funeral will go, they ways I'll be disrespected and all the things I struggled with amplified to flip it on its head and feed an agenda in my death. when I die it will be nothing. And I don't want death, I don't know what I want, because I don't want life either. I'm so tired and none of this seems worth it, I'm tired of having 'Stockholm syndrome' for being alive, I'm tired of being tired and being told to man up and that to suffer is just how it is. All of us must work to survive, many of us are chronically sick, many of us were abused, its just life, and I don't want that. But I also don't want this to be the last thing I feel, I don't want to never have a chance for anything better, I don't want to not be able to know what the world looks like when I'm gone if only for a second. I don't want to not be able to fight to make the world better for people like me even while they want me dead. I don't want death because death is no relief to me.
Death feels like a cop-out to me, I will suffer and feel this stuff and then there will be nothing more, but I won't even know there's nothing more. If I succeed, I will never know I succeeded. I will not know I died by suicide. I will not see who sits by my grave, I will not see whether lies are engraved on my stone. There will be no 'I', only the people that hurt me to warp the story into some pity party for themselves and the people who loved me to fall apart. Its so cruel that the only escape I can imagine is one I won't even get to experience by nature of death. The last thing I will feel is pain as my method kicks in.
And yet, death will come for me. Whether by my hands or not. If the present is all that matters, and the past only exists in its impact on the present, then one day it will be as though I never was alive either way, one could argue I never even was alive at all at that point. When there is no one left to remember me, no people to be changed by my life, and no me to remember my experiences, will it be like any of this ever even happened? Will it have mattered that I killed myself now, versus years later?
Neither option seems good. I suffer, I have suffered for so many years, I have wanted for it to end. I have no energy to get out of bed, I am exhausted, and soon I will be without food because of my laziness. And yet it seems that this being the worse option is a logical argument, though I think the more logical one is that they are both bad. There is no good option, there is only injustice. And so, will I choose after so many years of fighting not to end my life for fear of the horrific impacts (that I have seen for myself) of suicide grief on those around me, to make this final decision? Is that not so incredibly selfish of me when death will provide no relief anyways? When both options are equal.
I can be philosophical about this, and I can be angry. But even if it makes no sense beyond a certain level of analysis, I want to die. And after all these years of trying, I think I will. I just have no energy, and although I know how to get the means (not trying again by hanging as I did before although it is accessible because it permanently disabled me and I don't want even a small chance of surviving that again, but I know the ways of lethal means). But I will have to somehow harness that energy for a final burst so I can end this once and for all. I should say goodbye first, though it may be difficult to do so without alerting those around me to my plans.
I guess I don't really know.
so why do I think about it at all? Why do I think about how they'll react, beyond the basic empathy I feel for those around me who I love and who my death will destroy. Why do I imagine the ways people will find out, how my funeral will go, they ways I'll be disrespected and all the things I struggled with amplified to flip it on its head and feed an agenda in my death. when I die it will be nothing. And I don't want death, I don't know what I want, because I don't want life either. I'm so tired and none of this seems worth it, I'm tired of having 'Stockholm syndrome' for being alive, I'm tired of being tired and being told to man up and that to suffer is just how it is. All of us must work to survive, many of us are chronically sick, many of us were abused, its just life, and I don't want that. But I also don't want this to be the last thing I feel, I don't want to never have a chance for anything better, I don't want to not be able to know what the world looks like when I'm gone if only for a second. I don't want to not be able to fight to make the world better for people like me even while they want me dead. I don't want death because death is no relief to me.
Death feels like a cop-out to me, I will suffer and feel this stuff and then there will be nothing more, but I won't even know there's nothing more. If I succeed, I will never know I succeeded. I will not know I died by suicide. I will not see who sits by my grave, I will not see whether lies are engraved on my stone. There will be no 'I', only the people that hurt me to warp the story into some pity party for themselves and the people who loved me to fall apart. Its so cruel that the only escape I can imagine is one I won't even get to experience by nature of death. The last thing I will feel is pain as my method kicks in.
And yet, death will come for me. Whether by my hands or not. If the present is all that matters, and the past only exists in its impact on the present, then one day it will be as though I never was alive either way, one could argue I never even was alive at all at that point. When there is no one left to remember me, no people to be changed by my life, and no me to remember my experiences, will it be like any of this ever even happened? Will it have mattered that I killed myself now, versus years later?
Neither option seems good. I suffer, I have suffered for so many years, I have wanted for it to end. I have no energy to get out of bed, I am exhausted, and soon I will be without food because of my laziness. And yet it seems that this being the worse option is a logical argument, though I think the more logical one is that they are both bad. There is no good option, there is only injustice. And so, will I choose after so many years of fighting not to end my life for fear of the horrific impacts (that I have seen for myself) of suicide grief on those around me, to make this final decision? Is that not so incredibly selfish of me when death will provide no relief anyways? When both options are equal.
I can be philosophical about this, and I can be angry. But even if it makes no sense beyond a certain level of analysis, I want to die. And after all these years of trying, I think I will. I just have no energy, and although I know how to get the means (not trying again by hanging as I did before although it is accessible because it permanently disabled me and I don't want even a small chance of surviving that again, but I know the ways of lethal means). But I will have to somehow harness that energy for a final burst so I can end this once and for all. I should say goodbye first, though it may be difficult to do so without alerting those around me to my plans.
I guess I don't really know.
