Tears. I haven't cried in a long time.
I haven't cried in a long time because the pain has ebbed. But now it flows again, the way nature flows back, every time. I find myself trapped on my own island of solitute. My SOS signals no longer heard. I don't scream anymore because I know no one will hear. I don't scream anymore because I know I am dying and there will be no resistance.
Tears, more tears.... I don't want to cry anymore. I'm fighthing the flood that is threatening to swallow me.
Last night on TV, there was a segment on this guy around my age with end stage cancer. He was strikingly handsome. His gorgeous wife is expecting their first child. He does not know if he will be alive to see it born. I wanted to take the disease from him and put it in me. I've got so much less to lose.
I haven't thought about suicide in a while. I've been working so hard to live, instead of succumbing to feelings which seem inherent to me. Have I only been going against the grain? Trying to live a life I am not entitled to?
I've been working so hard to live. I bought a house. I renovated my bathroom, then my kitchen. I've been trying to save for nicer furniture, nicer furnishings. Playing house like a little girl. None of this is real.
All distractions from death, from the longing of death. And now everything is finally crashing back, like I deserve. I can't fight this anymore. I can't imagine how to survive a pain so exponentially intense.