My housemates are out of town, leaving me alone in the house for the first time in ages. My first thoughts? That it would be so easy to simply step out of this existence and in to the next incarnate. I imagine what it would be like to do as my sister did and die with blood pooling about me, warm at first and cooling as it dried. I think about how easy it would be to swallow a few too many pills and slip in to a never-ending sleep. These things are, truth be told, like siren songs. Dark, seductive voices that draw me toward an unknown destination that seems preferable, sometimes, to this one.
I know what it’s like to lose someone to suicide, and the thought of how my death would affect those I love is truly the only thing that keeps me here. Over the years, my best friend has become a means of survival for me. I look at him and think of what he would lose in terms of our friendship. I’m not the most confident person, and my self-esteem is almost non-existent. However, my FOC tell me they enjoy having me in their lives, and I owe them any amount of joy I can give. My first thought when I’m alone, though, is how I can end my existence or cause myself pain as penance for something I can’t even describe.