08-10-2020

I think it's almost over, this so-called life. 

I stay in bed as late as I possibly can because as soon as I open my eyes, I start to cry.  I've been suicidal more times than I can remember, but many of those were cries for help, unanswered.  Drunk suicidal, or catastrophe suicidal, or rejected suicidal.  I had things to pull me back from the brink.  Now there are none.  The total, complete alone is every day.  The world is falling apart, but even when the world was OK, it kicked the s**t out of me from birth.  I had children; now I have none.  They are a couple of people who hate me now.  Rightfully so. 

I see no point in trying to continue.  I don't have the strength, literally.  Six months of isolated quarantine has destroyed my body and mind.  All those muscles I had in my 20's and 30's, when I thought of myself as hideously ugly and worthless, have turned into crepe paper skin hanging on a bunch of bones.  My mind is the sickest it's ever been, and the tears can't be held back.  The tears are for everything now.  I can't differentiate their reasons.  I cry when I first wake up, because I've woken up to the same world I tried to escape the night before - through drink, drugs, TV, meaningless creative endeavors.  My whole life has been entirely meaningless.  It's been worse than meaningless because I brought life into this world and now they suffer also. 

I just have nothing left.  No hope.  Knowing the daily news is sheer torture.  Hearing about it, filtered through this or that mouth, makes it even worse.  No reality.  No appetite.  No interest in anything.  I have pills, and I have a gun.  Pills no longer seem appropriate.  They would be too easy, and I think perhaps I need to be taken out by violence.  The cats could eat my dead body more healthily without the pills.  Once they've finished me off, they'll be left to starve because no one will notice me being gone.  I feel terrible about abandoning the cats, but I'm no good for them.  They deserve better. 

I know a lake of fire for eternity awaits me.  Putting it off by continuing to live doesn't make sense anymore.