It’s just been Christmas and that kind of ruins everything.
It’s not fair on my husband, who just married me after 8 entire years of keeping me alive.
My dog won’t understand why I didn’t wake up/ vanished.
Will might not know how to take care of Joop properly.
Will won’t understand that I can honestly love him and yet not bear being alive.
I might actually stop being so overwhelmed by the feeling of scrutiny that makes me put everyone important to me on my Restricted list on Facebook because I can’t bear the thought of them seeing my activity.
I might stop wishing for a time machine to take me back to moments when I met people so I can not strike up a conversation with them.
I might stop crying at that Lord Huron song.
I might stop hurting about the girl I keep the current time in Tokyo displayed on my phone screen for.
I might not lose my mind more and more each year as we approach March.
This year something finally happened with someone I’ve loved for years, and maybe, I’ll manage not to destroy everything between us.
Maybe I don’t need to disappear entirely in order for my husband to have a better life.
Maybe everyone doesn’t despise me as much as I think they do, or maybe I’ll just stop thinking about it.
Maybe I’ll learn to stop doing all the things I currently do. Maybe I’ll figure out how to be a human that people actually like.
I still haven’t figured out an accessible method that won’t go terribly. I’m not going to be on any rooftops any time soon.
Reasons to kill myself this week:
Everything above is bollocks and everybody will decompress with relief when my body is found.
I know nobody will see this post but I guess I wanted to get it out. I’m very aware that I’m talking to nobody.