To sleep at 4 am; up at 5 pm. Wouldn't have gotten up at all except that Jeff's game is tonight. George worked late and is still in bed.
Cut for the first time in a long time by pressing a serrated knife blade into my arm. Can't seem to stop looking at the veins in my left wrist. With a bit of work... and tomorrow is my birthday. It would be ironic if in my case the answer wasn't 42, but 41. *laughs very bitterly* If I wasn't living with someone, I'd find a sharper blade and just carve away at my arm until the pain went away or I finally worked my way around to those wrist veins. A lengthwise cut, down the vein, might ensure that they stay open long enough.
What am I afraid of? Not succeeding. Ending up in a hospital bed with organ damage from shock that wasn't quite deep enough to kill. Worse, facing George. Knowing that I'd lost his love AND was still alive. Death doesn't really frighten me at this point. The messiness of outliving a suicide attempt does.
It's not easy to kill yourself certainly, short of stepping in front of a speeding bus (and what would that do to the bus driver?).
A friend once mentioned that they read my LJ because of the honesty. Well, there it is. About as honest as it gets, because apparently some people value that. Don't worry. One day I'll stop talking and actually take the leap, and nobody will have to read this anymore.
Cut for the first time in a long time by pressing a serrated knife blade into my arm. Can't seem to stop looking at the veins in my left wrist. With a bit of work... and tomorrow is my birthday. It would be ironic if in my case the answer wasn't 42, but 41. *laughs very bitterly* If I wasn't living with someone, I'd find a sharper blade and just carve away at my arm until the pain went away or I finally worked my way around to those wrist veins. A lengthwise cut, down the vein, might ensure that they stay open long enough.
What am I afraid of? Not succeeding. Ending up in a hospital bed with organ damage from shock that wasn't quite deep enough to kill. Worse, facing George. Knowing that I'd lost his love AND was still alive. Death doesn't really frighten me at this point. The messiness of outliving a suicide attempt does.
It's not easy to kill yourself certainly, short of stepping in front of a speeding bus (and what would that do to the bus driver?).
A friend once mentioned that they read my LJ because of the honesty. Well, there it is. About as honest as it gets, because apparently some people value that. Don't worry. One day I'll stop talking and actually take the leap, and nobody will have to read this anymore.
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I hope and pray that day never comes, Crowdog. Said it before, and I'll say it again: the world's a better place with you HERE and alive. Right now, you hurt, and you've been hurting for a very long time, and no one can blame you for feeling the way you do. But if you've lost your hope, then perhaps I have hope enough for two, and if I do not, then perhaps all those who care about you (and I suspect those are many) DO have hope enough to hold you and comfort you and let you know that you are loved and needed and wanted.
"The hardest thing in this world is to live in it." That's a quote from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," but that doesn't make it any less true.
Whatever choices you make, you remain in my thoughts and prayers. Forgive me if I selfishly hope that you stick around for a while.
::hugs and blessings::
-Elaine
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*hugs and warm thoughts*
-T
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Thanks for your kind words of support.
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Still here. Not dead yet, to quote Monty Python. Even feeling a little bit better; sometimes getting the poison out in a post helps.
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Damn. Maybe we should market the first chocolate pill covers. MMm. Yum. :-P
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Well, that made me feel better. :-D
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love - phaidra