I want you to rest assured that I'm in no current danger. I just really need to get this out of my head and into the universe.
I want to die. Not always, but regularly.
I've felt this way for as long as I can remember, and it comes and goes. I can remember as a very young child I used to fantasize about jumping in front of a car on a busy street. I was a small kid so any car would have done the trick back then. These days I'm a bit bigger and getting hit by a sedan just hurts a lot. Ask me how I know...
It's always been there, that voice. The one that tells me it's all for naught. That no one cares. That I'll never be anything. That I'll never be happy.
I've given in to the way that voice wants me to feel all too many times. It hangs above me like a cloud. Sometimes it's barely there and the sun shines through, and sometimes it's a thunderstorm filling my mind with acid rain.
The more I look over the edge, the louder and more convincing that voice gets. Oh to take that step and have just have one final moment of bliss in free-fall before none of my self-imposed worries, anxieties, or problems matter anymore.
I've always been strong enough to fight that voice and come out victorious (if you want to call it that) in the end. I've never made an honest attempt to end my life. Before 8 years ago, I'd probably say that's simply because I'm a coward, and that may still be true, but now I have two beautiful little boys who need to grow up with their father in their lives. I never had the luxury, and things aren't always great, but I know what it feels like to have a father who ran off, and I would never want to make my children feel as if I didn't love them and wanted to be there for them for the rest of their lives.
So. even if I wanted to, ending my life is just not in the cards for me. I went and made existence an obligation. That being said, I still want to die. Not always, but regularly. I find life..... difficult, to say the least. I have a very hard time dealing with pressures and stresses that are just generally expected of me to be able to handle. I overthink everything and create elaborate worst-case scenarios in my head, which often only end up becoming self-fulfilling prophecies. I don't care for it, and I can recognize that it's a huge part of why existence is pain, but all the recognition in the world won't help me force myself to do the things I know I should be doing. I fail over and over, hurting everyone around me in the process. It's truly not healthy, and I've all but run out of friends to alienate.
I don't want to kill myself, but if I saw a plane falling out of the sky in my direction, I probably wouldn't move out of the way. I don't put myself in harm's way (see: coward), but I don't look both ways when I'm crossing the street. If I could just not hear the train that's coming down the tracks, I'd be okay with that. I regularly lie down for bed hoping lighting strikes the ceiling above my head while I'm sleeping. I just kinda wish I could stop waking up sometimes.
But then I do... and that doesn't always make me happy, but I guess it be like that sometimes. You can't win 'em all, ups and downs, and all that jazz. I'm proud that I've made 34 orbits around the sun, and I'm still here, screaming into the void.
I woke up... better... today, and I hope you did too.