This morning I feel better. I lay in bed trying to figure out my entire life and where things went wrong and how they can be fixed. Then I got up, took some Mucinex, took a shower, got dressed and came downstairs to eat and look at my blog.
Suicide is an option, kind of. I used to hold it as the ultimate weapon against everything. I could pull it out at any time and end it all. When things were bad I would just sit and think about pulling a trigger next to my head over, and over and over and over. It does take the edge off. But I don't even own a gun (thank goodness).
I had an insight a couple of years ago. It ruined my death will solve everything theory. The insight has made death seem less like a humongous event that will end it all. A sharp, clear image came to me, of myself, waking up after I died. After a brief second of clarity, all the same emotions and issues and memories I could not get away from in life came flooding back. A wall of a flood, a natural force that was attracted to my mind like a magnet. The powerful force of death had simply pulled us apart for a second.
And then I cried and screamed and smashed the ground with my fists, because I realized I was not going to get anywhere, in any dimension, until I figured these issues out. My years on earth I had wasted, waiting for death, when I should have been using them to sort through the cess-pool of jealousy, guilt and hatred that is with me now, will be with me in the future, and has been with me from all eternity.
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