OreoWellington
Ready To Die
- Sep 28, 2019
- 123
So the first time I attempted to do this, I was stupid enough to open my mouth about it and receive intervention about it, but now I want to be smarter about it and keep my mouth shut.
My reasons for purchasing a gun is obvious. It is one of the most surefire ways I can go and actually succeed at it. I will make sure to hit it at the right spot to my head with a hollow point bullet to ensure maximum damage. I would like to carry this out at some motel (because I don't want to do this at home where I live with my mother for her to see or clean up after the aftermath) with the doors locked and perhaps furniture blocking the door to halt and prevent any sort of intervention for as long as possible.
It just doesn't make sense to me to only live JUST for the sake of keeping others happy, content, and comfortable. Everyone around me just KNOWS how much I am suffering. It is to the point that as the blood and stench of my very real potential death comes creeping closer to them, the more they want to inch themselves further away from me (as if my suicidal thoughts and depression are contagious). I have LOST so many so-called "friends" and people due to this as they brace themselves with the fact of how much of a lost cause that I am. I never end up changing and I always end up coming down to the same conclusion/resolution--- that life is better for me not living and that I just simply do not have what it takes.
This is a chronic, lifelong condition that I know I will NEVER see an end to. I should know because I have been struggling with this since the age of 11. It's like my whole identity is tightly wrapped up and wound up with my thoughts to die, like I never had the chance to actually ever flourish, bloom, and actually have a real life with goals and a sense of purpose, self-confidence, ambition, and direction. Even if I am still young and "healthy otherwise" at the age of 27, I am smart and experienced enough to want to end this now before it leads to even MORE years of continued misery, regret, and despair.
If I don't use that gun right away, I want to at least keep it hidden away as a backup plan, for in case shit hits the fan out of nowhere and I need an immediate out. I hate the idea of going through life without at least being prepared for bad and worst-case scenarios.
I've given it some thought and the only people I should give and owe my sympathies, consideration, and explanation before I go is no one more than my own family, who unfortunately have the misfortune of being associated with me by blood and cannot run away from that (unlike the so-called "friends" of my life who ran and avoided me from their fear of me LONG before I ever had the chance to actually perish-- fuck them). Side note--- In the fucking FAT chance I ever CAN manage to finally get out my hellhole pit of suicidal and depressive despair for GOOD and still live to tell the tale (I don't see this feasibly happening for me though), I am going to always remember these people that walked over my bruised, broken, battered, bleeding sense of self and I VOW to walk past them and cut the shit of them out of my life in kind. They don't deserve me.
My reasons for purchasing a gun is obvious. It is one of the most surefire ways I can go and actually succeed at it. I will make sure to hit it at the right spot to my head with a hollow point bullet to ensure maximum damage. I would like to carry this out at some motel (because I don't want to do this at home where I live with my mother for her to see or clean up after the aftermath) with the doors locked and perhaps furniture blocking the door to halt and prevent any sort of intervention for as long as possible.
It just doesn't make sense to me to only live JUST for the sake of keeping others happy, content, and comfortable. Everyone around me just KNOWS how much I am suffering. It is to the point that as the blood and stench of my very real potential death comes creeping closer to them, the more they want to inch themselves further away from me (as if my suicidal thoughts and depression are contagious). I have LOST so many so-called "friends" and people due to this as they brace themselves with the fact of how much of a lost cause that I am. I never end up changing and I always end up coming down to the same conclusion/resolution--- that life is better for me not living and that I just simply do not have what it takes.
This is a chronic, lifelong condition that I know I will NEVER see an end to. I should know because I have been struggling with this since the age of 11. It's like my whole identity is tightly wrapped up and wound up with my thoughts to die, like I never had the chance to actually ever flourish, bloom, and actually have a real life with goals and a sense of purpose, self-confidence, ambition, and direction. Even if I am still young and "healthy otherwise" at the age of 27, I am smart and experienced enough to want to end this now before it leads to even MORE years of continued misery, regret, and despair.
If I don't use that gun right away, I want to at least keep it hidden away as a backup plan, for in case shit hits the fan out of nowhere and I need an immediate out. I hate the idea of going through life without at least being prepared for bad and worst-case scenarios.
I've given it some thought and the only people I should give and owe my sympathies, consideration, and explanation before I go is no one more than my own family, who unfortunately have the misfortune of being associated with me by blood and cannot run away from that (unlike the so-called "friends" of my life who ran and avoided me from their fear of me LONG before I ever had the chance to actually perish-- fuck them). Side note--- In the fucking FAT chance I ever CAN manage to finally get out my hellhole pit of suicidal and depressive despair for GOOD and still live to tell the tale (I don't see this feasibly happening for me though), I am going to always remember these people that walked over my bruised, broken, battered, bleeding sense of self and I VOW to walk past them and cut the shit of them out of my life in kind. They don't deserve me.
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