I feel like I've been hit over the head with a tremendous wave of pain and rejection. I feel like it's August 2022 again. Maybe it's just the thought of going back to work onsite. This is where I was after The Thing happened.
When I took step 1 of 3. I got the pistol permit. I don't even know where it is. I don't know that I feel bad enough for Step 2. Not even because I don't want to die but because Mean Brain still wants to wait...there's still time... 40 years later...yeah, he still secretly loves you. Just hold on.
An hour or so ago, I got on forhers and in less than 30 minutes, I have a 90 day supply of anti-depressants coming my way. Choose happy right? If anything, it's a stockpile and provides me a second option to end my life.
The crying never stopped, World. I am trying. I have tried. I tried very, very hard. I have no more tries to give.
When I try to think about what could make me feel better and what the very best outcome could be, I come up empty. I don't even know what happily ever after looks like anymore.
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