E offered this morning to go out to the farm to help… but my mom had to get along with him. No, thanks, I think we got this. He doesn’t recognize that he plays any part in how people react to him. Yes, I know my mom is responsible for her reactions. But E called me a bitch in front of her, my dad, and the kids… what did he think would happen. That she would stand there and take it. When I mentioned this to him the other day, he basically told me that he called me a bitch because I am a bitch. Well, ok, thanks for clarifying that.
And I believe him. I believe that I am a fuck up like he called me a while ago. That I am a bitch like he’s called me numerous times. That I am worthless.
And I believe what he says. I also believe that I don’t deserve to live. That not only will no one miss me, but they will be happy I’m not here. I truly believe that. At this point, I don’t know if anyone will be able to convince me otherwise. I had asked him years ago what would happen if I died… would he be sad? He said that death is a part of life, and he wouldn’t be upset at losing me. I figure that is still the case.
I made a marriage counseling appointment for us mid September. I have a drs appointment the week before and I’ll ask to start back on my antidepressant again. I’m going through the motions of trying to get better. I don’t think it will work. I promised my counselor in college that I would do everything I can to survive. I’m trying that now.
A friend mentioned that I was formulating a suicide plan with walking down to the creek. I denied it at the time. It’s been a long standing thought… but truthfully, I am starting to think he is right. I’ve been ignoring how bad my feelings have gotten lately. Not necessarily ignoring… but not necessarily doing anything to move things in a positive direction.
But honestly, I don’t want them in a positive direction. I have fought so long and so hard, I don’t want things to temporarily get better. I’m most of the way down this path. I want to continue walking it to the end. I want to die. I want to kill myself.
I don’t know what is so much harder about tonight. I’ve typed those words before. Everyone who reads my blog knows that I am almost always holding on by a thread. Tonight it’s different. I’m in a different place. I’m connecting words to feelings. Everything is so much more real… so much more intense.
Maybe another difference tonight… it’s not just about wanting to die. The feelings are more than that. They’ve been growing to be more than that for a while. Just like every year around this time, when I start switching over from the mindset of I could never actually go through with it to more of a mindset of maybe it’s for the best to follow through.
But what happens if I fail? What happens if I have to face everyone alive the next day? I would be a failure. A failure for trying to go through with it. And a failure for not succeeding.
I don’t know what to do. I’m exhausted. I’m scared. I want the pain to be over. I don’t care how.