Ideation is fucking weird. Do I want to die? No. Because I know one day things will hopefully improve. But would I step out of the way if a truck was speeding toward me? I can’t confidently answer that.

It’s been 5 years since my last attempt. And not a single day passes where it doesn’t cross my mind. I was supposed to be dead at 21. I didn’t make plans to live beyond that. I’m 26 now. And… every day I feel lost. I wasn’t supposed to make it this far and every day I feel like a stranger in a world where I wasn’t meant to exist for as long as I have.

But… I can never bring myself back to that brink. Something, some unknown force that I’ve yet to identify is keeping me tethered here. Willing to allow my existence to continue, but not without feeling like a stranger in a foreign world. But… it’s something keeping me alive. That’s a positive I guess.

Now if that force ever gives out… that’s when I’ll start to worry. Fuck.

(For anyone reading this, I am fine. I’m not a danger to myself or anyone else. I just wanted to get these thoughts out of my head and onto paper, so to speak. Be well 🖤)