I feel a terrible binge coming on... I've been really good this year, only drinking 10 days. As proud as I am of my commitment to sobriety, this weekend has nearly left me for dead, both emotionally and spiritually. I won't get into details here, but I don't think I have the strength to keep holding it together. Sure, I'm on medication, I'm seeing a therapist for my issues, I'm doing my light-therapy every day... but my jaw is almost broken from all my screaming (I've screamed every night this week since Thursday). I'm terrified to go to sleep, afraid of how I'll hurt myself. I'm suicidal. I'm not ashamed to admit it; I've had suicidal ideations since I was 11. I know I will be like this until the day I finally slip off this mortal plane. It's not a matter of if, but of when. It's like: how long can I prolong the inevitable?
So the question that needs to be addressed is: why do I keep fighting when I know the conclusion? Am I dense? Stupid? Delusional? People who commit suicide don't just decide to do it one day at the drop of a hat. No, suicide is something someone like myself thinks about all the time, anytime, anywhere. It's a friend that sits upon my shoulder, haunting me wherever I go. And then when I try to interact in this cruel, tortured world, my little ghoul shimmies and shakes with fervent joy. "Keep going," the voice tells me. "You'll be free and the world will be free once you're gone." A fair bargain if you ask little ol' me.
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