Mar 26.2

 There is a new angle to all of this. Well. Not new exactly.

The thought of suicide looms large. Not out of some fit of absolute emotional pain. But heres the different breeze. Because I am beyond struggling with the physicality of it. Even at rest now I am suffering all the time. There is no relief.

It's no way to live.

The very calm, rational, logical, perfectly ok thought to me sits in my head. Just end it. It's ok. You've tried. It's not getting better. The alternative is just suffering.

No one is going to save me. It's not about cheering up. Or having company. Or stuff to do. It's about being in constant state of suffering to one extent or the other. I can plaster a mask on for short periods. Which is just a show for others. Not for me. I slump even harder afterwards. What on earth is the point. Not even just a, I don't know what the purpose of life is. This is a bona fide, I am suffering physically here. There is no relief.

I don't know.

It is coming and going.

Sometimes strong. Sometimes fades into the background. Sometimes it builds almost into that inevitable compulsion.

I think I am dancing on the edge.

Not that you'd know.

Because it isn't a dramatic flounce of a cliff.

Just a quiet practicality. Like sweeping up the front yard.

It is reinforced every 10 minutes by a pang of awfulness. My head blips. My eyes creak open. The nausea turns over. And my bones are heavy as lead, pinned to the bed.

It is inescapable.

In a way the emotional side of it has faded into the background. The grief and loss and yada and blah. It's there. If I poke it, it rises up like a vast dragon of misery. But it is pushed into the background by the physical reality. The awfulness of drawing another breath - and yeah. That has started to get troublesome when lying down. Like I can't quite get enough oxygen.

Hmm.

I have said all I need to say before now. No need to repeat it.

Bottom line. There is a joy and a tragedy here. A joy in release. And a tragedy that it has to go that way. But. Such is life. None of us get out alive.

In any case.

Still here for the moment.

Barely. Oh so barely.

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