I don’t know what to write to you today. I just know I want to speak to you. I miss you so much.
Last night he had to pick me up from a random train station and I have no idea how I got there. One minute I’m in a bar chatting. Next I’m having a panic attack somewhere I don’t recognise. I have genuinely lost time in between. You’d have been angry I drank so much. You didn’t like it. It’s not the first time I’ve blacked out since you’ve been gone. My body seems to let me keep going to help hide the pain. He says it’s scary and I should watch my drinking but honestly it’s hard to take care of yourself when you just wish you were dead.
The black outs make me think of the nothingness. That it’s a small experience of no consciousness. I don’t mind them. I wish it was a permanent state. Living in my memories is what causes the pain.
I’ve been seeing a counsellor, I had a session today. She asked me what I wanted to achieve with her. The truth is I don’t know. Healing would be to move further from you. I try and be honest with her but she wants me to talk about my specific suicidal fantasies. They are so brutal that I can’t share them. I’m afraid she’ll have me committed. I can’t be in hospital, that’s where it all started and I can’t be away from our pup.
For the first time I considered an overdose as an option. Google tells me that it only has a 2% success rate, that those people plan for a long time and make sure they have enough. Stupid that I think about paracetamol. You were so worried I’d kill you with paracetamol at the end. Kept telling me how dangerous it was. The cancer was definitely more deadly. I remember even years before you talking about how they coat it was sugar so you throw it up before you can take enough. I wonder why paracetamol overdose was such a big thing for you. Anyway it seemed appropriate.
I feel like my suicide is inevitable but I fight it every day for him and my brother. For some reason they stick out as people who would think that they didn’t do enough and blame themselves. I doubt he’s ever been this selfless before and my brother has given me everything. I would know that it wasn’t them, that they gave me all that they could, that I was just beyond saving, but would they ever believe it?
It would be such a great relief. I guess the point is it wouldn’t. Just an end.