91 days…

91 days…

I was talking to a close friend last night. Someone I can tell everything to. Or at least I thought everything.

He asked me if I had a suicide plan. No was my official response. Maybe should have probably been the answer.

Do I have one pinned down for this time? Not exactly. Do I have working ideas? Absolutely. I’m just… as normal … indecisive.

I vividly remember the plan from junior high. I had everything laid out. My goodbye letters were written. I had picked the clothes I wanted to be buried in. Pink jeans and my favorite pink shirt. I had figured out songs I wanted sung at the funeral. I was going to wait until my parents were asleep for their Sunday afternoon nap. Sit in a chair in the middle of my room,,, and shoot myself.

After that, my go to plan was to starve myself. I was wanting to get down to 98 pounds. I only got down to 112. I ate just enough so that questions wouldn’t be asked. People told me how great I looked. I got discouraged. I wanted desperately for someone to ask how I was doing. Someone I could trust and talk to. I didn’t have the courage to go to someone and tell them how I was feeling. I was hoping someone would be concerned and ask if I was ok.

Once I moved away to grad school, my plan changed. I got the fact that I was never going to lose enough weight to actually kill myself. I didn’t have a gun to shoot myself. By that time I had started cutting. So one of the two plans I had was to slit my wrist. I wanted to be in the bathtub, to watch the blood go down the drain. Or I wanted to get drunk and swallow a full bottle of pills. Probably more than one bottle of pills.

So what’s the plan now? Honestly, I’m going to play it by ear. Don’t know at this rate if I’m going to be able to keep up the plan to make it to my birthday. Everything seems so overwhelming now. Every day is harder to get through then the one before. I have 91 days left before my birthday. I do know I don’t want to have a funeral anymore. I want to be cremated, but ashes dumped in the trash. I think the trash would be fitting place for me.

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