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My favourite part of life...was Alun

I heard once that flying a helicopter is less about actually flying it and more about stopping it from turning itself upside down.

I think that's how I live my life right now - just doing everything I can not to crash.

I'm so messed up in my mind and heart that I'm just trying to stay upright and damn it's hard.


What's hardest about depression, anxiety and suicide (COMBINED right now in my heart and in my head) is that you don't know you need help until you're teetering on the edge of a train line, hoping - just hoping - a train will obliterate you.


But I can't involve anyone else in my death. I don't want that for people. Imagine if there were little ones on that train? I would never forgive myself.


So I step back.


I keep breathing.


BUT OH MY GOD IT HURTS.


And that's my thinking right now - every second that I am here, I'm deciding to be here.


AND IT HURTS, TOO.


LIKE A BASTARD.


Because life hurts, you guys. It is freaking painful to feel everything I'm feeling. This grief, sadness, loneliness, anger, fear - it is HORRIFIC.


Do I take the tablets I've saved up or do I put them back in the drawer?
Do I come into work (I am here) or do I pretend to go to work but actually go to the beach to drown myself?
Do I call in sick for a few days and just rest (yes please) or do I keep pushing forward?
Every
single
second
I'm asking myself "Live or die, JD? Live...or die?"


When you contemplate death, you start imagining how life would be if you weren't in it.


I have a half-million dollar life insurance policy out on myself (started it up the last time I was suicidal so it's been building up over the years) so Alun will be taken care of. He can pay off the house. Easily. Regrettably, I'm not worth more. I'd love to leave Alun with a couple million to be honest...but as it turns out, I'm only worth 500 thousand.


Hmm.


My thinking is all askew - off kilter - so to me, my death makes a lot of sense right now.


It's better for Alun. I just annoy him anyway. This way, he can move on. He can get a wife that actually looks pretty. She won't need a bag over her head the way I do.


Ok I can't type any more just now.


This is too painful.

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