I had more thoughts about suicide today. What it would be like to just disappear. Again, more romanticizing of it. How shocked everyone at work would be. What my wife would do. How everyone would feel sorry for me, sorry for my wife, sorry for themselves. What would my brother’s kids think and feel? I’m sure life would be more of a challenge for them. My poor Dad. As if he hasn’t had enough loss. And my mom, could she hold it together? So much drama. And maybe that’s why it fascinates me. Suddenly, in ending my life, it actually gains significance, people who don’t seem to pay much attention are now attentive. And what if I overdose, but I don’t die? What if I end up in the mental hospital? Perhaps it would be good to go there first. How do you know if you need to admit yourself? Is it worth waiting and risking impulsive acts occurring? I don’t have a plan, but I’m struggling. I just feel so insignificant.
Today I contemplated suicide for a little while. I thought how easy it would be to overdose on all the pills I have. Knowing me, I’d probably just get really sick. But it seems so easy and overdosing seems on first impression like a pretty painless way to go. It’s funny because I like my life right now, for the most part. Sure, I still get uncomfortable sometimes, but overall I think I’m in a pretty good place. I guess it’s because I watched a movie this weekend that showed it very subtly and made it almost matter of fact. Nothing gruesome, no blood, just a quick ending. And it almost seemed romantic, like Romeo and Juliet. But then I snapped back to reality. What would it do to those who love me? It would be very painful to a lot of people, especially my wife and my parents. No, it would be wrong. And I am gradually putting my life back together after leaving my job and going on disability. I have a bright future ahead. I have to keep reminding myself where I was a couple years ago. In bed, in tears, in agony, not accomplishing anything. I’ve come a long way. Actually looking forward to tomorrow.