Jealous Blackheart
A Well Read Demon
- Aug 25, 2023
- 175
Last year I found this forum for the first time. I never thought I'd be here again. Over the last 10+ years a question I often used to get me by was: "Is this the worst my life has ever been?" If not, I told myself I'd be fine; carry on. If it was, I could always "try" again. The answer was always no. Until last year. I'd finally ran out. I couldn't do it anymore. I'd made my peace with it and I was ready to go. This website was an incredible resource and I cannot describe how glad I was to find it. Unfortunately, virtually all of the effective methods are restricted in my country. Schedule 1 chemical compounds you need a license to obtain, etc. Overcoming SI was never an issue for me, but the effectiveness of the methods always was. Having no way out has to be one of the worst feelings.
I would spend every single day trying to thread the needle to get some method to work. Everyday. And with all the limitations I was trapped in, I kept failing over and over. I'd prepared everything for my departure. I packed my things so the disposal when I was found would be simple. Scrubbed my digital presence. Deleted my accounts (they were few anyway) and my email address. I had what I could accept as a last conversation with everyone I needed to have one with. I had all of my affairs in order. And still my method wouldn't work.
Time passed. I kept trying. Kept losing the war despite winning the SI battles. And things kept getting worse. The closer to death, the further from life. I had successfully sabotaged everything. It was deliberate, after all, I had no plans to be here for very long. And everyday was my last day. And trying was exhausting. Failing was exhausting. Until one day I arrived. Rock bottom. Psychologically my life literally could not get any worse short of the decline of my physical health. I was at terminal velocity. What I mean is, psychologically, there is no difference between winning $2B and $20B. There is no difference between having 2 grains of rice for dinner or 9 grains of rice for dinner. I had nothing left to lose.
Until I was reminded of something. One stupid quote that changed everything.
"It's only after you've lost everything that you're free to do anything."
Yes, I had lost everything, but what did I gain? My life has always been so backwards. I live upside down. People are lonely. Silence is loud. Receiving is bondage. Anger is honesty. Love is hurt. Pain is bliss. Sweet nothing is the ripe everything of a blank canvas. I never feel so alive as when I'm ready to die, never so effortlessly kind, never so giving, never so forgiving. And I am never so mean as when I'm trying to live, never so callous, never so selfish, never so resentful. Like a serpent eating its own tail, the end is the beginning.
Even though externally nothing changed, there was this reckless sense of liberty that fell into my lap. Like I burned down my house knowing the only things worth keeping would survive the fire. Now I can do anything. Now I say: "One more good day is worth having." Death can have me tomorrow. And it will. Even if it came today I would be ready. I still wish that we were free to choose the day of our departure without stigma but culturally we are not there yet. It's been about a month now. I shaved my head, it's growing back out again. Got my body back, it can do the things it used to again. Started a new journal titled Canvas Carnival, in spirit of celebrating the infinite potential of a blank page; a written festival of starts. I fear nothing. Why not take one more thing off the bucket list? What can I lose? What else can it take from me, to live one more day? What could I ever lose that I haven't already lost if I start again?
I would spend every single day trying to thread the needle to get some method to work. Everyday. And with all the limitations I was trapped in, I kept failing over and over. I'd prepared everything for my departure. I packed my things so the disposal when I was found would be simple. Scrubbed my digital presence. Deleted my accounts (they were few anyway) and my email address. I had what I could accept as a last conversation with everyone I needed to have one with. I had all of my affairs in order. And still my method wouldn't work.
Time passed. I kept trying. Kept losing the war despite winning the SI battles. And things kept getting worse. The closer to death, the further from life. I had successfully sabotaged everything. It was deliberate, after all, I had no plans to be here for very long. And everyday was my last day. And trying was exhausting. Failing was exhausting. Until one day I arrived. Rock bottom. Psychologically my life literally could not get any worse short of the decline of my physical health. I was at terminal velocity. What I mean is, psychologically, there is no difference between winning $2B and $20B. There is no difference between having 2 grains of rice for dinner or 9 grains of rice for dinner. I had nothing left to lose.
Until I was reminded of something. One stupid quote that changed everything.
"It's only after you've lost everything that you're free to do anything."
Yes, I had lost everything, but what did I gain? My life has always been so backwards. I live upside down. People are lonely. Silence is loud. Receiving is bondage. Anger is honesty. Love is hurt. Pain is bliss. Sweet nothing is the ripe everything of a blank canvas. I never feel so alive as when I'm ready to die, never so effortlessly kind, never so giving, never so forgiving. And I am never so mean as when I'm trying to live, never so callous, never so selfish, never so resentful. Like a serpent eating its own tail, the end is the beginning.
Even though externally nothing changed, there was this reckless sense of liberty that fell into my lap. Like I burned down my house knowing the only things worth keeping would survive the fire. Now I can do anything. Now I say: "One more good day is worth having." Death can have me tomorrow. And it will. Even if it came today I would be ready. I still wish that we were free to choose the day of our departure without stigma but culturally we are not there yet. It's been about a month now. I shaved my head, it's growing back out again. Got my body back, it can do the things it used to again. Started a new journal titled Canvas Carnival, in spirit of celebrating the infinite potential of a blank page; a written festival of starts. I fear nothing. Why not take one more thing off the bucket list? What can I lose? What else can it take from me, to live one more day? What could I ever lose that I haven't already lost if I start again?
