
Broken Buzz
Space Ranger
- Apr 30, 2021
- 51
Ah, the ramblings of a factory-flawed space ranger, how I wish I were posting in Recovery instead.
Perhaps I could have recovered from the two-year relationship with a manipulative narcissist, whose catalogue of abuse and occasional torture could inspire the brutalist of militia. Losing my daughter, as any parent will know, is a fracture of your soul that will never heal. Like a waterfall of pain filling every part of your consciousness, until you drown in your thoughts. I came forward to the authorities for protection, but they refused to help. I was broken, emotionless, nihilistic; but not yet suicidal. I wanted to die, but I wanted more to spare those I love from the hurt. Still, I knew my absolute limit, and today that line was not just crossed, shit flew past to infinity and beyond.
I'm not afraid of death. I know my decision will destroy my parents and the few friends who have stuck by me, but I hope that they will pull together and understand why I have chosen this path; sometimes life can be its own terminal illness.
I'm not yet 100% sure that I'm ready to do this, there is perhaps still a mote of hope among the smouldering rubble of my recent past, but I'll know for sure within the next couple of days if my heart is in this with my head. I'm writing my letters to the people who matter, shielding the paper from my tears.
Fuck, nobody said it would be this hard.
Perhaps I could have recovered from the two-year relationship with a manipulative narcissist, whose catalogue of abuse and occasional torture could inspire the brutalist of militia. Losing my daughter, as any parent will know, is a fracture of your soul that will never heal. Like a waterfall of pain filling every part of your consciousness, until you drown in your thoughts. I came forward to the authorities for protection, but they refused to help. I was broken, emotionless, nihilistic; but not yet suicidal. I wanted to die, but I wanted more to spare those I love from the hurt. Still, I knew my absolute limit, and today that line was not just crossed, shit flew past to infinity and beyond.
I'm not afraid of death. I know my decision will destroy my parents and the few friends who have stuck by me, but I hope that they will pull together and understand why I have chosen this path; sometimes life can be its own terminal illness.
I'm not yet 100% sure that I'm ready to do this, there is perhaps still a mote of hope among the smouldering rubble of my recent past, but I'll know for sure within the next couple of days if my heart is in this with my head. I'm writing my letters to the people who matter, shielding the paper from my tears.
Fuck, nobody said it would be this hard.