Am I dying in 60 days?

 That's how long it'll take for my pistol permit to come. The thing with having all this documentation is that I have evidence that this has been a long time coming.

I tried to look back on old blog posts for hope, for happy moments. It's just been entry after entry of struggle bookended with struggle.

I just want the world to know, I don't actually want to die. I just don't want to be sad anymore. I just want the pain to stop. I want to stop crying. I want to stop being sad.

Death used to be a metric. I could do x thing or I could be dead. And it was always better to do x thing. Because with death there was nothing else after.

But I've reached the end of the road, there isn't x thing left to do. 

It's my last act of control, I guess. 

My last attempt to get the life I wanted.

I don't even have any last words or last events.

It's been a long time coming, I've just now been brave enough to do it.

Even a 60 day countdown seems too much to bear.

There's nowhere else to run, nowhere else to hide.

Nothing else to lose.

I've run out of last hopes.

There is a feeling when you feel like God has turned his back on you. Like he's calling my bluff. I can hear him saying, do it, I dare you.