I can’t say that my thoughts, what they are of, have changed. I have always had a darker mind than most, and - yes - Death is a large topic inside. Mine, in particular. Yet, somehow, they are changing. I think the drug is to blame, and I know I desperately need to schedule an evaluation and switch to a different one.
I had a wonderful evening. I really did. Even still, my mind was drifting. I was with someone that usually helps pacify these thoughts in me, without even knowing. But at several points, they were there.
They are more vivid than they used to be. I don’t think it will cause me to really do it. I really don’t. However, I can see it so well. I can feel the steel barrel in my mouth, and I know how I’d get the gun. A gun that needs only one bullet. I can taste the pills, one by one. I can feel the burn of the water rushing into my lungs.
The method is always different. The result is always the same. I know how I think everyone else will feel. I know how their lives would be so much better off. I know who will be relieved, who will be pleased, who will be saddened.
I don’t know what happens next. I don’t know if what I think in those moments of others’ thoughts of me are true. I don’t know if I’d change my mind at the last second, after it’s too late. I don’t know anything really.
All I do know is that the thoughts are fleeting. They run through my head, sometimes lingering longer than others, and then they are gone again. I return back to what I was thinking before, no longer envisioning the various unique ways I could do it. I realize that people wouldn’t necessarily be happy about it. Most people wouldn’t care at all. They’d live on with their lives. Some would be deeply affected.
I don’t know if these thoughts and feelings will ever go away, but I think they are something I will be battling for at least many years to come. Whether or not they ever overpower me, I do not know. I’d like to think I’ll win the fight. I’m going to keep fighting. I haven’t lost that. And if I go down, I’ll go down kicking and screaming.
But in those short moments, I don’t know if I’d fight. In those lapses in rationalization, I don’t have the choice. I just hope they don’t last long enough for me to act upon.