woofwag
Bad dog
- Sep 17, 2025
- 482
A bit ago I made a post on my list of reasons to die and got some good feedback on it. I liked that @DeathSweetDeath brought up that it could be a list of things to work on, forgive myself for, etc. And @telekon pointing out that life shouldn't be scrutinized with lists, I think that's a good way to see it too.
However. I've realized now that my list is just an accessory to my misery. It's reasons of why I want to die, not because I should.
Recently I tripped on acid with a few friends. It was a great time until I started getting brutally suicidal. I stared at a banner of a jellyfish hung on my wall as it morphed and buzzed and turned into skulls while I thought about how miserable I am day-to-day. I can't tell people the reality unless I want to be put into a ward. So, I frantically started cleaning my room, one of the main barriers to my prep I've been grappling with for a while.
It's coming along slowly but surely. I feel myself have these moments of dopamine-inspired distraction, but it's never anything that inspires me to actually live. Like a bite of a yummy doughnut isn't going to magically give me hope that life can be beautiful and worthwhile. Actually, it just ends up making me feel worse later. Yet people act like I'm supposed to take solace in those moments?
I get excited to do shit like snort a line. The kind of life where all I exist for being sex, drugs, and doomscrolling is miserably shallow. My dopamine receptors are FUCKED and have been ever since I got a phone at nine. That all could be surmountable if I actually cared. But I don't.
Idk really the whole point of me writing this besides to get it out there. I can't tell anyone irl how sure I am that I'll ctb. It's just a matter of time. It's been far too long already.
However. I've realized now that my list is just an accessory to my misery. It's reasons of why I want to die, not because I should.
Recently I tripped on acid with a few friends. It was a great time until I started getting brutally suicidal. I stared at a banner of a jellyfish hung on my wall as it morphed and buzzed and turned into skulls while I thought about how miserable I am day-to-day. I can't tell people the reality unless I want to be put into a ward. So, I frantically started cleaning my room, one of the main barriers to my prep I've been grappling with for a while.
It's coming along slowly but surely. I feel myself have these moments of dopamine-inspired distraction, but it's never anything that inspires me to actually live. Like a bite of a yummy doughnut isn't going to magically give me hope that life can be beautiful and worthwhile. Actually, it just ends up making me feel worse later. Yet people act like I'm supposed to take solace in those moments?
I get excited to do shit like snort a line. The kind of life where all I exist for being sex, drugs, and doomscrolling is miserably shallow. My dopamine receptors are FUCKED and have been ever since I got a phone at nine. That all could be surmountable if I actually cared. But I don't.
Idk really the whole point of me writing this besides to get it out there. I can't tell anyone irl how sure I am that I'll ctb. It's just a matter of time. It's been far too long already.
