conversations.
Monday, March 30, 2009
a typical conversation that goes on in my head on a daily basis...
Me: you know that no one believes you anymore. no one really thinks that you are going to kill yourself. they all think that you are just crying wolf, trying to get attention. you know that everyone thinks you should just 'snap out of it' and stop fucking around, that you should just take the fucking medication and be done with all of this. you are an attention whore and a drag on everyone's pity strings. no one wants to even think about you, let alone worry about you, which they are not.
Self: i know. but it's going to really be a shocker for them when they wake up one morning and i've gone and done it. they probably won't care, they'll probably think, "jesus, what took her so long" and "good riddance to bad rubbish".
you know i have every intention of going through with it. i just need to get my ducks in a row, as it were... i can't just leave the animals. and damn them, every time i get close, they wind up pulling me back. i sometimes wish i didn't love them so much or that they didn't need me so much.
Me: i'm sure sandra feels that way sometimes. wishes that you didn't need her so much.
Self: i know.
Me: it's coming, you know. i can feel it. it's getting closer. i'm just so much of a worthless piece of garbage. no one is ever going to want me. no one wants me around. it should be so easy. and the plans. i have a million of them, but only about 3 of them are viable and certain. i don't want to risk waking up in a hospital bed somewhere with tubes coming out of me. when i do it, it has to be final, the end.
Self: i know.
Me: no one believes you, you know. no one. they all think that you are just trying to get attention, but no one is giving you any. you say the same old tired things in your blog, over and over and over again. no one is listening. no one cares. you just have to get strong enough. you have to get the animals taken care of. it will be incredibly painful, and leaving them with someone will be so so hard, but then it can be over. you know that. and you know it's what you want. it's the only thing you want. unless they come up with a way to make you instantly thin or have some kind of face transplant so that you are not so ugly, you know it's the only way out, it's the right thing to do.
Self: but i'm scared.
Me: i know.
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