If I do it, it will be a reaction to the state I have fallen into and the realisation that there is no escape outside of distraction and mind numbing drugs or alcohol or suicide.
I am like food that has gone bad. Wasted. Throw it away, it has no value.
It won't be because I am temporarily angry at some moron with no sense of responsibility to themselves or society or their actions or the result of their actions.
I used to get suicidal when some bonehead nearly killed me in traffic and I was reminded of all the bodies I have seen that were the result of some other bonehead and reminded of the daily possibility that this will be the day I am a body and the inevitability that we will all be affected by some bonehead in traffic somehow, someday.
I used to think that life was a waste of time if I was just going to get slammed by some moron that ran a red light while texting or plowed by a truckdriver during his thirtieth consecutive hour at the wheel. I guess I still do, but thats not why I am wasted like food gone bad.
I used to think that being the result of an abusive and cruel upbringing was the reason life sucked for me and was going to be the reason I finally couldn't be like this anymore and did it. Nope, I survived it and I won't have to go back, ever, so the damage is done and I haven't killed myself over it yet. I t won't be because my stepmother is a religious zealot without a brain in her head and my father would rather fight a fight he can win with me than even try to argue a point with her. I got my head smacked and my ass kicked and she got a trip to the religious retreat and he got a few days peace. Not going to let that be the reason.
Not going to kill myself over the knowledge that my wife has zero empathy and no ability to learn it either. I know that in my PTSD world if you aren't part of the solution, you are the embodiment of the problem. Thats my screwed up way of seein g things. She could understand it and work on the problems when they come up but she has no ability to get that she is the problem when she doesn't so she doesn't. I won't kill myself because she has just repeated an action that cause me anger again, the second time or the hundredth time.
I won't do it in reaction to another persons actions. If it happens it will be a cumulative effect of all of these actions in my life. The food doesn't go bad because one thing happened, the food goes bad because ten things happen.
I think my life is becoming more and more like bad food and is almost ready to be tossed, but it won't be someones fault, it will be everyones fault, especially mine. I am fealing as incurable as a jug of lumpy milk forgotten on the back shelf of the fridge. Gone bad, past it's date, toss it without a thought. No tears.
I am like food that has gone bad. Wasted. Throw it away, it has no value.
It won't be because I am temporarily angry at some moron with no sense of responsibility to themselves or society or their actions or the result of their actions.
I used to get suicidal when some bonehead nearly killed me in traffic and I was reminded of all the bodies I have seen that were the result of some other bonehead and reminded of the daily possibility that this will be the day I am a body and the inevitability that we will all be affected by some bonehead in traffic somehow, someday.
I used to think that life was a waste of time if I was just going to get slammed by some moron that ran a red light while texting or plowed by a truckdriver during his thirtieth consecutive hour at the wheel. I guess I still do, but thats not why I am wasted like food gone bad.
I used to think that being the result of an abusive and cruel upbringing was the reason life sucked for me and was going to be the reason I finally couldn't be like this anymore and did it. Nope, I survived it and I won't have to go back, ever, so the damage is done and I haven't killed myself over it yet. I t won't be because my stepmother is a religious zealot without a brain in her head and my father would rather fight a fight he can win with me than even try to argue a point with her. I got my head smacked and my ass kicked and she got a trip to the religious retreat and he got a few days peace. Not going to let that be the reason.
Not going to kill myself over the knowledge that my wife has zero empathy and no ability to learn it either. I know that in my PTSD world if you aren't part of the solution, you are the embodiment of the problem. Thats my screwed up way of seein g things. She could understand it and work on the problems when they come up but she has no ability to get that she is the problem when she doesn't so she doesn't. I won't kill myself because she has just repeated an action that cause me anger again, the second time or the hundredth time.
I won't do it in reaction to another persons actions. If it happens it will be a cumulative effect of all of these actions in my life. The food doesn't go bad because one thing happened, the food goes bad because ten things happen.
I think my life is becoming more and more like bad food and is almost ready to be tossed, but it won't be someones fault, it will be everyones fault, especially mine. I am fealing as incurable as a jug of lumpy milk forgotten on the back shelf of the fridge. Gone bad, past it's date, toss it without a thought. No tears.
