**Authored by the Fanatic**
The weight of the world is on my shoulders. Whether imagined or real, it is still heavy. You see the voices in my head are urging me to fill my backpack full of weights and sink to the bottom of the river. Just like that, maybe 10-12 steps off the bank and I would disappear. When I envision carrying out this plan it feels somewhat ceremonial. Like, it’s a rite of passage at this point of my depressive episode. I have paid my dues and now it’s time to “rest.”
I asked my dear friend if he thinks my suicidal thoughts are like a default mode for me. He suggested that when my pain comes to the surface I simply want to make it go away. I’m not even sure I know what the pain is but it sure hurts.
I constantly question if my reality is really reality at all. Could I be making this whole drama up? I say it’s someone else’s voice that I hear telling me to hurt myself. Is it really my own? Sometimes I get so confused.
I didn’t isolate today. I connected with 2 other people and we laughed. We engaged each other in sarcastic and witty banter. I didn’t over think my purpose or question my existence. I think I was actually present, at least some of the time. I am healing!