On a bus, on a train, under the ocean

Required reading.

Revolution from My Bed

Last Wednesday, I tried to take my own life. Maybe I’ve tried before, feebly, sometimes privately without making a sound, without hospitalization, but this time I tried fully intending to face whatever comes next–nothingness, heaven, hell, eternal dreaming, purgatory, reincarnation, whatever. As I slowly drifted in to unconsciousness, I was without fear, and full of resignation.

Maybe this is hard to hear, and for that I apologize. Truthfully, I find myself apologizing for almost everything lately. I’ve been severely depressed for so long that most of my friends now probably can’t remember me being well; but, I can remember, and it’s painful to be so inert, so impoverished, so useless, so undependable when I used to be a survivor, above all things, but also talented, passionate, and exuberant. I had respect. I had someone who thought he could spend the rest of his life loving me.

Everyone has their own…

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