I never would. I really wouldn't. I have a wonderful husband and two teenage children, and I'd never ever cause them the pain.
And yet, I can't get ideas out of my head. Not ideas I'd act on, but wishes, longing, a dark hunger. a driving down the road, imagining slamming into the big truck behind or next to me, or an embankment or whatever.
An almost event, and regret that it's not.
Yet, again, this is not something I'd ever do, so why can't I get it out of my head?
I wanted to as a child. Just never had the courage and strength. It wouldn't have mattered then, or hurt anyone -- that would have been the time to act, not now.
I had a bottle of pills I'd stolen, used to count them out in my hand, hold them at night, imagine taking them. I wanted things to end, be over.
Now that PTSD has raised its head, that longing is back, but for no reason. I have a good life now, why am I so haunted by a past over and gone? I don't get it.
Anyway.
Don't know the point of this.
And yet, I can't get ideas out of my head. Not ideas I'd act on, but wishes, longing, a dark hunger. a driving down the road, imagining slamming into the big truck behind or next to me, or an embankment or whatever.
An almost event, and regret that it's not.
Yet, again, this is not something I'd ever do, so why can't I get it out of my head?
I wanted to as a child. Just never had the courage and strength. It wouldn't have mattered then, or hurt anyone -- that would have been the time to act, not now.
I had a bottle of pills I'd stolen, used to count them out in my hand, hold them at night, imagine taking them. I wanted things to end, be over.
Now that PTSD has raised its head, that longing is back, but for no reason. I have a good life now, why am I so haunted by a past over and gone? I don't get it.
Anyway.
Don't know the point of this.