Death.

I’m going to reveal something that I have never told anyone prior to writing this post.

Once when I was walking somewhere, I started thinking about death. This wasn’t a new thing. death is a recurrent topic in my mind so I wasn’t surprised. But, and I’m sorry this will sound weird and make me sound crazy, something new happened. For a second, I genuinely thought that I had died (because I’d wished it) and all the pain was over. And I felt relieved. Actually relieved. That all the pain was over, and the dying process was over. I’m sorry that sounds so fucking strange. To whoever is reading this, I’m not that crazy. I promise. Please don’t wish for me to be locked away somewhere away from everyone.

Death scares me, I’m not going to lie. And when I am in one of my really, really, really low moods I genuinely think about you know. Going. Making all the pain go away. But I am always too cowardly, which is a good thing because I do want to live. But sometimes I just wish for the pain to go away and that seems like the only option.

I’m sorry that I’m telling you all this, but I don’t really have anyone else to tell.

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