This is more of a vent for myself, and I have yet to find a place I can simply post things to myself. I find sometimes, that when I look back at old posts, whether that be a few weeks, months or years from now, it helps me visualize how far I have come. But I also struggle with the need to have my thoughts heard, even if it is by someone I don't even know. Simply because I do not want to burden my loved ones with these dark thoughts. So here goes. 

I keep imagining my suicide. Now this isn't to say that I am actively going to kill myself in the next however long, because I have gone 2 years without self-harm thank you very much. However, I cannot ignore the simple fact that when I am alone, these thoughts will not subside. I imagine not only the act of it, but the possible reactions of those closest to me.

I question, who would find me? See, when I picture this act, I am doing it in a way that is the least amount intrusive to anyone around me. Car accidents are out, ODing is a possibility, however, I really don't like the idea of my cats not understanding why I am not moving. No, when I imagine doing this, I am at my favorite place in this city I love. It seems a sick irony that I would want my life to end in a place of such beauty. But, hey, this is my imagination. So really though, the question on who would find me would be broad and the possibilities would be endless. 

Who would tell the kids at my job where I went? I sincerely hope they would not disclose such news to them, as they have enough issues of their own. I would not want them thinking that they are not resilient or strong, simply because a staff they were close to was gone. I would hope they would simply told them I moved. 

Who would tell my family? My far spread out, not close, dramatic family? For my siblings to realize their sister was not actually strong enough to make it out of these dark thoughts, or that my parents' daughter was not the miracle they had hoped for. To tell my nephew his best friend is gone, or my nieces that their aunt won't be coming home again? I would hope they would hug each other close. I would hope they would tell each other how important every single one of them is, because my family does not do this nearly enough. 

Who would tell my love? Oh such a sweet soul. I know how it would impact her, simply because she has expressed how she would feel if I was suddenly gone. She would believe it was due to her, and I would hope that the ones around me would be able to express to her how happy she made me. How, when her name was brought up, I would light up like New York City, or how I was always wanting to ensure she was okay. How almost every bad thing would disappear simply because she walked into the room. How, when I looked to the future, I saw her standing by my side. How it was not nearly her fault that I could not succeed against this monster that lived in my head long before she even knew who I was. 

The sick part is, I can logically look at all that I have written and understand and acknowledge that suicide is not something I \*want.\* I understand that my soul yearns to fight. That I want to continue to inspire those around me, that I want to have more days to tell my loved ones I love them, that I want more time to convince her and show that the love we can create together can be beautiful. I can look at all this and know I am not going anywhere.

But.

I keep picturing my suicide. I keep picturing a world where I am no longer a part of it. Where I am not around to make her smile, to listen to my mom's heartbeat or voice when she is talking, where I do not receive a wonderful life advice talk from my dad. All the small things that make life worth living, all the things that I have worked so hard to have and appreciate, sometimes does not feel strong enough to make it through these thoughts. And that brings me to the most maddening question I have. 

Why am I so terrified to allow myself to be happy? 

or...

Am I incapable of feeling happiness at all? Will I inherently always ruin whatever good is happening, simply because I do not believe I deserve it? 

I keep picturing my suicide. And I wish it would stop getting so much clearer. 

Thank you for allowing me to rant.