There’s no quieter place in my life right now than sitting in my parked car, underground, in my near-silent garage. It’s so quiet, I can hear what sounds like my own blood moving, passing by my eardrums. There’s nothing else to see if I look down at the dash and the wheel. I’m encapsulated here. Hiding.
There’s something wrong with me. I’m not ok tonight. But it feels like there’s no fix for this. All I can do is remember to just wait.
I need to learn how to override the instinct to live. I need courage. I need to choose a method. I can’t keep doing this. I don’t know what I’m doing. This isn’t right. My head isn’t right. I can’t. I have to go. I’m so tired. I’m so worthless. I’m so low. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing this.