Cripes.

I’m generally a happy person. I’ve been staying really busy with freelance and trying to get the house ready to sell, since my job loss is most likely going to cause me to lose my beloved home, too – like so many others these days. My stress level is high, but that’s to be expected I reckon. The problem is that suddenly, I can’t stop this terrible thought from entering my mind, over and over again, until it makes me want to make it happen.

I used to have this thought quite often, when I was much more miserable. I lived in a town I disliked with a man I didn’t love, had a job that bored me and a frightening lack of art and music in my life. I specifically remember the first time it happened – it was during my 45 minute drive to work, and I was pissed at myself; torn up about money problems and my sheer lack of direction. Suddenly a little movie played in my head, and stunned me so that I had to pull over and remember how to breathe again. It was a vision of me putting a gun in my mouth and pulling the trigger.

I’m not suicidal, and never have been, although I have been stupid enough to “try” for the attention once when too young to have developed any goddamn sense. Despite getting fucked over by my last job, I know full well that I have it really good – better than most, in almost every way. I’m not the type to groove on the grave or dig the darkness; my goth-flavored black apparel is intended to try to slim my fat ass, not to let the world know that I’m on the edge of knocking myself off. For years, the vision stopped coming – it stopped after I moved to Athens and got out of that shitty relationship. Now it’s back, kicking me in the stomach when I’m down; taking my breath away when I really, really don’t want to stop breathing.

Why?

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