It’ll Get Better…. Hopefully.


A month has passed since the last post. A post that contained hope and fight for betterment of the self. Since that time I put those words on the internet, things have not gone as planned. In fact, I must confess, they have gotten much worse.

These past couple weeks have absolutely, undoubtedly terrified me. My mental state has regressed to a point I have not visited since 2008. It has been downright dark and scary as of late. Thoughts of death have not been so adamantly present as they are now since the time I had a rope around my neck. Planning out my death is, weirdly, not out of the norm for me. An exact count was never kept but there has been at least a hundred times I have conjured up ways to kill myself. What really worries me is how serious and thorough this last scenario was taken.

My plan was to die tomorrow. I had it all worked out. The rough details were that I would finish writing a suicide post, set a delay for the publishing allowing me to communicate beyond death, get a shotgun, drive to my favorite spot outside of town, and blow my brains out. I wanted my body to be cremated. My funeral was to consist of a bonfire out in the hills. A slingshot of some devising to be built that could launch my urn in the air to be shot at so that my ashes could scatter. Then I was going to wish that all my possessions be burned in the fire, in my head I figured this would help with the forgetting process of whatever I meant. There are more details but those should suffice.

What was so scary about this particular plan was not the amount of time, thought, and detail put into these fictional events but that I started to prepare to see them through. I made a list of all the people a letter would be left for and then actually started writing them. Last night I spent mostly awake. My mind going through the logistics of what “needed” to be done in the coming days when my thoughts briefly shifted from my death to things I had to do for my future down the road. It caught me off guard, as the last few days were committed to planning and seeing my end through. The realization that my future was still being thought of past my self imposed death date meant I wanted to keep going underneath all this doom and gloom. Out of this realization came others to help me hold on.

The thought of fulfilling my potential feels improbable at best. My support system is one that I do not use often, never actually. Discussion of these dark feelings is a conversation I am not willingly to have with those close in my life. I know they would listen and care. My worry is that they would care too much. It is hard for me to reconcile sharing my problems with those I love because I wish for their lives to be as unburdened and happy as possible. I fear being one of those burdens of worry. It is what drives me to secrecy. I would do anything for those I love but I am not comfortable with them doing anything for me. Honestly, I believe I am not worth such kindness from others. I am afraid that if the possibility comes true that I can not escape this hole, I will drag others down with me. This is the reason I planned out my death, again.

I have been going about changing myself all wrong. This is due to the fact that I am stubborn. My intent has been to solve these life problems all on my own. To take time away in order to work on myself alone with no help then come back into others’ lives when the fixing was done. Stepping down from life was a detrimental decision. Placing all this weight on myself to change in solitude, an impossible situation to put myself in. This only resulted in me reversing back down to rock bottom, a place I know all too well and should be better at avoiding by now. In order to gain new results, I must alter my methods. At this point, as scary as it may be, it is life or death, change or leave. With my aim still set on sticking around, I am reaching out beyond myself for outside help for really the first time. My isolation has become more than I can bare, so I’ve called a counselor and am waiting to set an appointment.

I still find it strange that I am more comfortable with honestly sharing my current state with essentially a stranger than with those I’ve known for years. However, I need someone who has no preconceived notions of the person they think I am. I must have someone that I can be completely honest with where I am at in this stage. A person who, going in, does not know if I am a good person or a waste of space because I believe I am somewhere in the middle right now.

Deep down I know better than to think that turning this ship around is a quick process. I am trying to be patient with this. Trying to alter my approach to these issues I hope will prove beneficial. I also know better than not to kid myself. I am still in the thick of these dark times and that taking note of my moods will be crucial in the coming days. My resolve is not to completely give up, not yet at least, and I am doing my best to circumvent falling that far.

My death will not come tomorrow. I will see this through. To those that I love, try not to worry. The last thing I want is for my problems to effect your lives. I will try to be better at keeping you updated. I know this post is a rather dark one but I must be honest with myself and you in the coming months. No more bullshit talk about how I have things figured out or suggesting I know truths that you do not. In summation, I am just another lost soul in the halls of life trying to find the right room of answers. As long I keep searching things will work out. Take care of yourselves. Do not sacrifice your make-up in order to fit the lives of others. You will lose your understanding of who you really are and want to be. It is a mistake I made years ago, one that has perpetuated down the course of my life.

-Fuck the Critics, Screw the Fans

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