QuincyME
Student
- Feb 23, 2024
- 117
I posted this in response to another thread so I figured I would post it as its own thread:
I'll be homeless in July if not sooner. I suffer from severe depression and can't work. I don't have a medical diagnosis and can't afford to get one, not that it would make a difference at this point. I'm fully aware the nightmare existence that being homeless is. I'm 56 and I know this will be the last chapter in my life. I'm in reasonably good health and I could live for a very long time under circumstances that an animal shouldn't be subjected to. With that being said, I have a loaded .45 that is more than enough to do the job. I have put that gun in my mouth hundreds of times and can't pull the trigger. I have 5 months left in my apartment and enough money to cover rent, utilities and food. Knowing what's waiting for me is like a form of psychological torture. Every day feels like it's a thousand years long. I keep telling myself to be grateful for the time I have left with a roof over my head and food to eat, but it doesn't help. Unless I find the switch in my brain between now and July, my existence on this planet is going to be a hellish nightmare with no end in sight. I can't imagine there's too many people out there that can top this in terms of wanting to die.
I'll be homeless in July if not sooner. I suffer from severe depression and can't work. I don't have a medical diagnosis and can't afford to get one, not that it would make a difference at this point. I'm fully aware the nightmare existence that being homeless is. I'm 56 and I know this will be the last chapter in my life. I'm in reasonably good health and I could live for a very long time under circumstances that an animal shouldn't be subjected to. With that being said, I have a loaded .45 that is more than enough to do the job. I have put that gun in my mouth hundreds of times and can't pull the trigger. I have 5 months left in my apartment and enough money to cover rent, utilities and food. Knowing what's waiting for me is like a form of psychological torture. Every day feels like it's a thousand years long. I keep telling myself to be grateful for the time I have left with a roof over my head and food to eat, but it doesn't help. Unless I find the switch in my brain between now and July, my existence on this planet is going to be a hellish nightmare with no end in sight. I can't imagine there's too many people out there that can top this in terms of wanting to die.