Depression is a weird little thing.  At first, I was sad and weepy and crying whenever I thought about finally ending this joke of an existence.  Because, that's what it is; a sad joke.

Now, I just don't fucking care anymore.  Everything is pointless and grey, and all I want is out.  I just want out.  I just want OUT.  I look at 50-60 more years of this treading water just to stay in place and think "nope."  I don't want it.  Take back this 'gift' and give it to someone who wants it.  I wish I could just return it with a hearty "no thank you, this is crap" and stay wherever I was before.

I CRAVE OBLIVION.

Every day, I hope something will come along and end me.  Heart attack, random traffic accident, anything just to end this.  Just to no longer be here.  If a genie gave me a wish, I would wish to have never existed in the first place.  If my doctor told me I had cancer that was going to kill me in a few months, I would SMILE and then refuse any treatment.  I would look forward to finally being done, with a legitimate reason that no one can blame me for.

Eventually, I am just going to allow myself to go over the tipping point, a process already started.  I have written most of my letters and made for arrangements for those who still wish to continue this Merry Go 'Round.  I will be very careful to not let anyone (except you, oh anonymous Reddit) about what I am doing.  They made such a fuss over me last time, I won't have a repeat of that.

I guess the point here is that not every fight ends in tears and sadness.  Some end because the thought of going on is simply more than one can bear.  I passed that years ago, and have been running on mental fumes since then.  Now, there is nothing left.

I leave you this shitty place, and wish you all the luck with it.  I'm done.