As of yesterday, I was planning to CTB on my next birthday.
But as of today, it's clear that I need to accelerate the timeline.
I was proud of exactly one thing in the entire world: having arrested the cycle of familial abuse. Buuuuut it turns out that such is not true. (Look at my other comment if you're curious about deets.)
I can't be trusted to be around other people. I am not a safe person to love. I can't be relied upon to tell the truth or provide support. All I can do is drain resources and energy, hurt people, and put them at risk.
The people with whom I am enmeshed will not benefit from a drawn-out process. A clean break will serve them better, and (bonus!) be far more cost effective.
So it's gotta be soon. I'm shooting for mid January. There's no time to source N or SN.
I have a big ol' pile of Klonopin-- probably 60 days' worth. The LD50 for it is ridiculous-- like, afaik, it's not too far from the LD50 for, say, roast beef sandwiches, so I'm going to have to couple it with a whole bunch of alcohol. Plus anti-emetics, assuming that won't just tank the whole thing. (I have to research this-- I really was planning to go with SN.)
I understand that this can be a sloppy way to go, so one of this week's tasks will be to source tarps and spill kits. (I figure I can do *that much* for whoever finds what's left.)
But one thing that gave me a hint of some kind of shiny-- something-- today-- as I was walking to my car about an hour ago, thinking about all this, a car drove by playing The Church of the Cosmic Skull's "Everybody's Going to Die."
It's one of my spouse's favorite songs, and it's really not something you expect to hear blasting from a car window.
I'm not generally a "signs from the universe"-type of person, but wow. It really did feel like a bit of a cosmic "attagirl."
Now I just have to follow through. I am a generally garbage follow-through-er, so this is non-trivial.
It's the only responsible thing I can do. Nothing else is left to me. There are, I will admit, some parts of me that don't want to go. Those parts need to be decisively silenced. Smashed with a sledge hammer. Killed with fire. Drowned.
That's my homework, I guess. Along with the tarps.
(If anyone's curious about the song:
)
But as of today, it's clear that I need to accelerate the timeline.
I was proud of exactly one thing in the entire world: having arrested the cycle of familial abuse. Buuuuut it turns out that such is not true. (Look at my other comment if you're curious about deets.)
I can't be trusted to be around other people. I am not a safe person to love. I can't be relied upon to tell the truth or provide support. All I can do is drain resources and energy, hurt people, and put them at risk.
The people with whom I am enmeshed will not benefit from a drawn-out process. A clean break will serve them better, and (bonus!) be far more cost effective.
So it's gotta be soon. I'm shooting for mid January. There's no time to source N or SN.
I have a big ol' pile of Klonopin-- probably 60 days' worth. The LD50 for it is ridiculous-- like, afaik, it's not too far from the LD50 for, say, roast beef sandwiches, so I'm going to have to couple it with a whole bunch of alcohol. Plus anti-emetics, assuming that won't just tank the whole thing. (I have to research this-- I really was planning to go with SN.)
I understand that this can be a sloppy way to go, so one of this week's tasks will be to source tarps and spill kits. (I figure I can do *that much* for whoever finds what's left.)
But one thing that gave me a hint of some kind of shiny-- something-- today-- as I was walking to my car about an hour ago, thinking about all this, a car drove by playing The Church of the Cosmic Skull's "Everybody's Going to Die."
It's one of my spouse's favorite songs, and it's really not something you expect to hear blasting from a car window.
I'm not generally a "signs from the universe"-type of person, but wow. It really did feel like a bit of a cosmic "attagirl."
Now I just have to follow through. I am a generally garbage follow-through-er, so this is non-trivial.
It's the only responsible thing I can do. Nothing else is left to me. There are, I will admit, some parts of me that don't want to go. Those parts need to be decisively silenced. Smashed with a sledge hammer. Killed with fire. Drowned.
That's my homework, I guess. Along with the tarps.
(If anyone's curious about the song:
)
