Suicide is an option - Ronin

Suicide is an option



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I believe there are people who love their job, career, whatever you’d like to call it. Everything is changing these days, it’s a slow struggle to keep up with what’s politically correct or not. With loving their primary “thing” they do, let’s define it as a job, if nothing else for saving key strokes; shall we. My job is ok and …. Borderline great… Ha. Honestly, it is. I don’t make much in way of income but doing side jobs from time to time can be refreshing. I, in all honesty, do very well now; especially in comparison to a few years ago—and all the time before that. I used to play video poker, pool, and general small-time gambling to make ends meet. That was the same time someone dear and close to me went to prison, I’ve never been the same. I remember it vividly, dropping my father off at the building that would remove him from my life for the next thirteen years. Looking back, I clearly see that I reverted back to the child that was crying profusely at his Grandfather’s deathbed, holding in all the noises, but my eyes were running like a faucet. When we came back the next day to visit him before we left for home, I couldn’t go in. I cried so hard, I couldn’t move from my seat. I was sobbing and bouncing a little, a physiological response for calming I’m told. During that whole time, I lost my girlfriend of about seven years. Our friends were mostly comprised of couples who mostly knew my partner or were related to her, needless to say they chose her (who could blame ‘em).

So, where were we? Ah, yes—money.

I always thought that money would make everything better. It doesn’t, it provides a band aid that can last or fall off in the shower. I think life is going as well as it can, and it’s definitely better than ever. I explained it recently that if there are categories to life, then each category is exponentially full…even the negative. I feel great, no medications that make my skin leak, my face turn red and fall off and no sexual dysfunction; kill me. Seriously, I’m ready for death. I hear it now, the voice in the back of my head saying the comments left will be horrible. However, I’m thinking of just walking over to the gun and shooting myself in the face. Almost eager to do it. Like I’m waiting for someone to give me a little nudge.

That’ll show ‘em!

Fuck them for making me feel this way

Now they’ll know how I felt.

… all that garbage.

So, life’s going well… How are you…?

Suicide! “Just fucking please let me die”, is what I say to myself all the time. Where the fuck are all the crazy shooters at now? Just like the military, train you to do shit and never let you fucking do it!!!!!! I digress.

I have a partner that is so damn amazing it makes me sadder to think that I’m such an asshole and can’t love her back. I force myself into decisions that are the best thing at the moment, even if the “moment’ is counted in years. Suicide. I can’t seem to shut it off, when I think of not being able to do something, examples being: ride a bike due to fear, gain employment, get a better looking partner (I feel that way with everyone, not intended to be rude) and/or anything else that isn’t on the positive side—suicide.

I sit here with my partner and think of how amazing we have it. Thanks to getting good credit, after a decade of being on the shitty low end of 500. I’m now almost 800, and I treasure it for a slight moment… suicide. I’ll never be able to keep it up. The day is nice and sunny, my truck is fixed and my motorcycle is ready to go… yet I still want to kill myself. I can’t stop thinking that that is the best idea. That I want to see the other side, I want to meet my maker, I’m excited for the challenge.  I get scared, you bet! I mostly believe I’m going to Hell and I’m in for an eternity of damnation. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I’m going to hate it. Every decision I’ve ever made has been a horrible one. Nothing ends well. I hate all things. Suicide. I wish I could feel differently, I wish I could feel nothing. There’s are a few good artists that depict this, Blackbear, NF, Machine Gun Kelly, to name a few. I could be having sex and I look down and see that I’m not as big as I’d like to be and I think that I should just blow my brains out. Why even exist. Why be here in a shitty World that makes you feel like shit and makes me feel that suicide is the only option. Yet! If you do! If you do kill yourself, then you’ll be going to Hell right!? Fuck that! Fuck you for making me think that. I don’t know what’s reality anymore. Suicide.

I drive through lights wishing that they would be my last lights ever; bang! When will be my turn? Will God actually hate me? Will there be a Heaven for me to enter? I don’t even believe in that shit anyhow, so why the fuck am I thinking about it. I really don’t know what’s fact or fiction. Samurais used to do it! I don’t want to be in a World where Samurais are all in Hell. Suicide. I also feel there’s a possible game being played and that those who commit suicide are the actual winners… yay! Go Samurais! Just think of it? What’s that Dark Matter shit in space that doesn’t allow light of any other matter through. Huh? I start to think about things like that I say fuck it, I wanna opt out. I would very much like it if tomorrow were my last day. I have a weird feeling that because that’s what I want, I will actually out-live all whom I know. Which is partly why I believe I push everyone away… everyone. Hi Mom.

Suicide.

I gravitate toward you like a magnet to a fridge. I think of my daughter, and I want to kill myself. I was with her over Father’s Day weekend as I sat there snuggling with my baby, I wanted to kill myself. I don’t want to feel the pain anymore. I know I can, I just don’t want to. I even allocate time between the drop off of my daughter to her mother and the airport so I can wiggle in a little panic attack time. I’ve had two. I just can’t wait until the day my fucking heat stops of natural causes. I want to play the odds and die like everyone else wants to, as if it’s a game. Just to be sure that if I’m wrong and there is a Heaven, I hope to enter… crazy right?! It’s like, because someone said it, I had to put it in the Schrodinger’s Cat box.

-Ronin  

Please seek help if you are having any difficulties. My blog is not advice, it’s freedom of expression on my personal life. In my blog you will see many phone numbers, easily Google-able, for mental health assistance and other services.