March 8th - Late

 11pm. I should sleep. As is atm I feel better at this time of day than any other. But I can feel a deep unwellness in me. The left hand side of my face tingles. Its been at it all day. My head is full of cotton wool, and the upper bounds of my thinking feels lost in fog.

Earlier today the numbness in my limbs and a heart that wouldn't quit pushed me to the brink again. I could not sleep, getting up made me feel faint and nauseous. Trapped. My thoughts spiralled into suicide one suffering minute to the next until that's all there was. Several times I opened my eyes my path to suicide just there. Each time I stopped. Be calm. Hazel left for a doc appointment. Now was the time. I am a coward. I do not want pain, but I was already suffering. A knife would hurt. But against this daily misery would it be so bad ? 

It was close. I had figured the plan. Hazel came back very quick. And the plan evaporated.

Ho hum. I long for a peaceful death. The relative calm of a moment like this evening starts to make me think there is hope. But I read the scant few entries I made this year and a horrible pattern emerges. This gas been building since Feb. I think the ramipril poured oil on the fire. I don't know. Perhaps in time it will pass. Perhaps it will not. Long covid. MS. Cardio and something else. Take your pick.

In 6 hours time I will no doubt be suffering again to the point of the edge of the abyss. We shall see. Perhaps tomorrow will be easier. 

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