I won’t lie to you all. The last few weeks I’ve been ready to die. That was before the pandemic that’s swept the world. The doctors came back and said I’m basically cancerous in the lymph in my groin and stomach so I am undergoing treatment. I tried to justify this as just another hurdle in my severely fucked up life but I spent a good ten days being black out drunk trying to figure out how I could die without anyone assisting me. I got tired of asking myself if I would die and realizing the point was when I would die and how I would. It’s never been a question of if I would die in my head but when I would and how I would go. Jokes were always made, I was never ever able to get serious enough to take my own life into my own hands. At this point where everyone is being supremely unrealistic in saving everyone and protecting the ones that are already too endangered, I’ve been just sitting here, doing treatment for two weeks, determining why I actually want to live. The sick and sad part in my head is that this is no different than any other time in the last five years that my immune system has been compromised. Any other time that no one cared that they coughed in my face, I could have been severely sick and in all reality, I have been. I have battled the common cold with a month long fight, and I just know that’s the type of response I have had to have. This outbreak is no different other than people are more aware, taking extra precautions and still exposing me to sickness with ease every day. Of course, I’m not helping myself at all, but at this point in my life I really don’t care. I thought about it the other day; do you realize how much you all and the government has spent to keep one measly unsatisfactory life alive? It’d be different if I actually did something worthwhile to make my life worth saving but I keep frailly grasping on with no intent to ever enrich mine or anyones life with any more potential.
Its been a focal point in my life the last few years and the year of sobriety I had was to supposed to help me find a balance in my life. It didn’t. I was so bored and disappointed with how ordinary my life was in 2019 that I still didn’t really care about living or having the life I did.
Come to 2020 and three months into it where I was not drinking to control my emotions but yet to hang out and have fun with my friends and then come to find after winter and hockey is said and done that I was not healthy again; I honestly looked at my life and wondered out loud - what the fuck am I doing? Why do I even care? Where do I even go from here? If I didn’t have the personal debt built up in my friends, would I even be here? Because, in my mind, the only reason I have had to live with no care about anything or anyone else was the debt my friends had incurred for me. To be brutally honest, for the last couple years the only thing that has kept me level is paying back all the people that have made sure I’m okay. If that wasn’t an option, then I would have found a way to die for sure. I feel like I float around just to tread about the water and redeem myself for the people that care and as soon as that is a past conclusion that I’d easily pull a Christopher McCandless and strand myself somewhere in Canada and eat some poison berries until I can’t function anymore.
I truly care about my friends and family; they’ve been there more than groups of people should have to be, I at this point just don’t see why I keep dragging hopes, dreams, and aspirations of loved ones out at this point when I’m not willing to do anything more than set them up for failure. The clarity at this point is that I’m too scared to end my own life when I’m sober, and even when I am absolutely annihilated, there’s some sort of consciousness that pulls me back to real time. I really don’t know what to do anymore and I absolutely hate myself and anything that involves me anymore. I appreciate everyone that checks up on me and that still gets in touch with me to make sure I am okay but I won’t lie; I’m totally ready to get sick and die with this pandemic. I can’t find a reason within myself to be a contributing member of society anymore, and if that startles you, then you haven’t been a good friend - this isn’t anything new in the last five years. Again, its not a matter of if I die for me but rather when I die. The saddest part for me is that I haven’t died of any flu or other bug I’ve caught in the last few years, just because this COVID is a little worse doesn’t mean the stubborn part of me won’t fight any less.