What’s your quietest goodbye?

[user933957]

Not the method. Not the note. Not the final meal or the big speech. I'm asking about the small, invisible goodbyes. The ones you've already done or are starting to do. The ones no one will notice but you. Because when you're walking toward the end, whether it's days, months, or years away, you start to do things differently. You stop reaching toward the future and start tidying the past. And it doesn't always look like sadness. Sometimes it's just…stillness. Resignation. A sense of "I don't need this anymore."
I haven't posted about it in detail, but I've been planning to CTB later this year. I'm not going to talk about the method or the when. That's not what this post is for. But it's a decision I've made with clarity. It's not impulsive. It's not a flare-up. It's just an intentional end. And in that, I've been saying goodbye in ways no one sees.

I deleted photos of myself. Not all of them. Just the ones where I was clearly trying too hard to seem okay. The ones where my smile made my eyes look like they weren't even attached to me. I don't want to leave behind a fake version of myself.
I stopped planning for things that require "next year" energy. Appointments. Subscriptions. Projects. I let them go. There's something strangely peaceful about removing things from your calendar and not replacing them. An empty calendar becomes a kind of relief. It's mine now. Not the world's.
I wrote down the passwords to everything I've ever made. Email. Documents. A folder on my desktop with a few explanations. Nothing poetic. No long letters. Just: "Here is how you close things. Here is how you won't have to guess." It's the only kind of mercy I feel capable of offering.
I stopped backing up my hard drive. There's something final about not saving your work. I let go of the idea that anything I create needs to last beyond me. I used to panic about losing files. Now I don't. If it vanishes with me, that's okay.
I've started using my favourite things. The candle I was saving. The expensive tea I thought I'd drink when I felt better. The perfume I stopped wearing. These really big boots I saved for special occasions. No more saving anything. There's no later. There's only now.
I stopped pretending I'm okay in texts. I don't trauma-dump. I'm not asking anyone to fix me. But I also don't smile through my messages anymore. I let my replies be slow, dry, unfinished. If people fade out because of it, that's fine. I'm not trying to grip anyone on the way out.
I cleaned out my drawers. Letters. Trinkets. Clothes. Things I've carried for years thinking they meant something. I burned a few. I tossed the rest. They were heavy in a way I didn't realise. Now there's space. Literal and otherwise.
I listen to music differently now. Just to feel it. Some songs are too much. Others hit in the exact right way and I replay them like they're stitches keeping me here just a little longer. Just until I'm done.

Anyway, they're goodbyes all the same.

So I'm wondering—what are your quiet goodbyes?
Not the big stuff. Just the soft ones. The ones no one else will ever know you did.

you're a genius, you have such a way with words it's amazing

 

[Kbeau]

Pushing away the people I love most so as they don't get hurt so much when I ctb

Yep

 

[belowaveragefish]

Sold $200,000 from my IRA and have gambled away $30,000 of it! It was fun. I'm definitely at the end point where you don't give a fuck and you're giving your stuff away for free. No wife, no kids, no parents and money and "stuff" ain't coming with me when I die!!

Hell yeah!
Wish I had that much in any sort of investment. Let's just say I barely make enough to live, and I still on average spend around $150-$200 a month on shit to actually make me happy. Mostly food and porn