deadlines (not funny)

I have nowhere to go with this. So here it is, here's the news: I'm planning to end my life before my next birthday.

Sorry, 2024 just isn't for me. Not feeling the urge to live another year again. My stupid diary entry from when I was 11 going 'i plan to kill myself before I turn 12' will finally come true, albeit many years late, but who's counting?

But there is so much guilt. I stood on the 18th floor a month ago or so mulling over it. I want so badly to end it, but look at my younger cousins, who remember my name and pray for me before their bedtimes. My aunt who I'd never met before until this year, talking about her own struggles with mental health and her mother as we washed the dishes. My beautiful, kind, overseas family friend who texts me and tells me how much she misses me and how much of a gift I am. I am so loved. I am so loved and so lucky. How dare I throw this away?

And yet I am selfish. I want my own peace at the cost of everyone else's. I rage. I hit people. I steal. And I cannot imagine why anyone else still wants me around, but yet, they do. 

Maybe getting a new Pokemon to add to my team would cure me. Maybe these meds already have. Maybe I'm fine and I can live a normal, basic life from now on if I just choose to Not Jump. 

It's. Whatever. I want to fulfill my childhood wishes, for some reason. He wants to die? Sure, yes, let's kill ourselves, make it come true. Let's half-ass a million suicide attempts. Let's feel guilty over not doing it right.

That's the end of this. Every day whether I want to or not changes. Joy, even my suicidality is fluid. But it's fine and I'll figure it out, eventually. 

Would be nice if I did get a new team member, though... let's see how that goes.

See you guys later.