Why am I still here?
I think what I hate most of all is having to deal with all of this in the first place. I don't want to have to deal with suicide. I don't want to have to deal with death. But I must because I have something else I have to deal with, something I never wanted to deal with, something I wish I never had: life.
But, oh, how I so do not want to deal with any of this! I want to be spared from life, but in order to do that I must face suicide. However, I also want to be spared from suicide. But if I turn from suicide, I'm back to facing life!
Suicide seems like the better deal. It's certainly shorter in duration. And that aspect makes this debate seem so simple. However, every ounce of my instinct cries out, "Don't do it! Stay alive! Stay alive at all costs!" To which, internally, I reply, "Why?" But these cries supply no reasons for they cannot. They stem from a mindless drive to persist. I can push them aside through further questioning, yet still they shout. Is it fear that halts me and makes me listen? I honestly don't know. All I know is that they're not easy to ignore.
But neither are my own anguished pleas. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be anywhere. I simply do not want to be. And I don't have to be. This can all stop. Go. Just get this over with.
An exit is indeed available, but it requires a lot of effort to go through. And it's effort that I wish I didn't have to exert. I was thrust into this life unaware. I'll echo a previous commenter and say that the best that could happen now is to at least exit unaware as well. But beyond some outside chance, that's not going to happen. And so I return once more to the choice forced into my hands.
