I just want to cash it in. I can’t. I have told too many kids to not do exactly what I feel. Don’t act on impulse. Wait until morning. Call a friend. Wake them up. I live a life of highs and lows that haunt my days, my nights, my interactions in life. I grow weary of feeling woe for myself, and I imagine countless dear souls who struggle with more than ever will I know. Then my fraudulent state of mind appears.
I don’t like Covid. I don’t like how it isolated our lives. I lay here on the twilight and I feel a dull ache in my right ear canal and I wonder what it might be. I fantasize, maybe I have it or maybe something is going me the grace of a natural death, which is what I wish for. How insane is that?
I worked in psych for twenty years and I know the diagnosis of mental illness recognized in a suicidal mind. A victim of suicide, yes victim is that person’s inability and feverishly drowning hope that leaves an open door for pain. A person taking their own life no longer feels a need to prove themselves, they only wish a rest. A person committing suicide would ultimately not wish others grief. only bury themselves while others weep. Yet our society teaches itself to strongly disagree, our society is against the labile nature of people taking matters into their hands, A suicidal person wishes forgiveness on the other side. Yet the tragedy of death is synonymous with a human being taking measures into their own hands. Suicide is not an action meant as revenge upon mother. Plain and simple it is the victim having reached the end of their rope.
I only want to sleep.
©️Scott F Savage 9/2020
apersonaljourney - stories of love 