I Shouldn't Be Here

 Part of me feels guilty as hell that I stuck around too long. Way past my time. I shouldn't be here. I don't belong here. Nearly every day brings reminders that almost everyone around me would be so much better off if I were gone. It has become more evident that they secretly wish it. I am a shadow. A bother. Worse. The other part of me is slightly reassured knowing that I don't have to wait much longer. After March, 2022, I will be past the obligatory two year minimum for life insurance to be effective upon suicide. After then, I will at least feel comfortable that my wife will be fine after I'm gone. She already knows and hates it when I bring it up. But I think she's relieved, too, that I'm not just ending it and leaving nothing behind to take care of her. That was the whole point of signing up; so she would have a safety net. So there's some comfort there, anyway. It's not that I hate myself so much. It's that I am so aggressively hated by others. So deliberately blown off as some piece of shit. Nearly every day I get this. Mostly at work. But occasionally at home, too. One can only take in so much hurt before losing it. I cannot vent to a therapist because I'll be locked up. I cannot vent so much to my wife because she prefers I shut up and hold it in. Ironically, I have no one I want to talk to as I have already made up my mind. I look forward to the endless silence, and things going dark. I'm so tired of being. I've been here way too long.

Going Through The Motions

Almost a year has passed now. I find myself haunted. I sometimes hear and feel the presence of Style and Finesse. A pillow seen out of the corner of my eye. A stray noise. It brings me back to happier times. But only for a moment. I have a few things in life that make me happy these days. My wife, Pam, is one. We have some ups and downs. But she has helped to center me these past 10+ years. Another is that I have been speaking to my father a few times a week. Just about little stuff, really. But it helps to have a family connection. While I still find myself pushed to beyond arm's length by my mother and brother, I maintain some contact. This also brings me back to center. As far as work goes, I find I am more often going through the motions. I can see that if I survive to retirement, that it will be in about ten years if I can hold on. As such, I have become more and less particular about the work I do. I am less willing to expand my horizons and seek advancement as its no longer important to me. I am more interested in staying where I am and perhaps streamlining the work I do so that it becomes an easier ride to the end.

Financially, it's a struggle. Nice to own a house. But it is taking it's toll. I am drinking a bit more often. Not really to excess because I don't like that feeling. But I am going through alcohol quicker. I think about suicide daily. Many times a day. It is always on the table. Why the hell am I still here. I'd promised myself many years ago that I would go when my cats went. Unfortunately, I'm still here. But when I find myself in random situations, for example, when I'm driving, and another driver makes a big mistake that could cause me to wreck, I instinctively swerve or brake, or do something so that I don't get hit. I have to shake this instinct and just hit head-on. Twice last week I could have ended it. But my instincts took over. Maybe there's a pill I can have prescribed that will help me to shake these survival instincts. Meantime I'm still here. Still going through the motions.