How can I put this?
I'm not very well.
Perhaps I just need a good nights sleep. I have just the answer to that - sleeping pills. I have one or two left over from treatment years ago. That's what I'll do tonight; I'll take a sleeping pill, and conk myself out.
To put you in the picture, and for want of some other way of putting it, I'm suicidal. I can't lie. There it is, written out for all to see, and perhaps in the mode of a cry for help.
I meditated earlier, and for forty minutes. I've realised that my suicidal thoughts are like a cloud, that hovers above my head, and won't go away.
Then, when I was done meditating, I read some of the MST326 Block 1 book, Unit 2, and I had a glimpse of joy. I transcended all my worries and fears, that I can't understand this text for my life, and realised that I can actually understand it, but that it's going to take a little more effort.
What does this effort entail? Well, an hour's mathematics, working on a single equation, just for the purposes of coming to grips with a method, could be just the ticket. If it's good enough for Joanne Holford, and other tutors in tutorials, it's good enough for me. Well, I guess for some reason, I feel like this effort is not within my grasp. Then the day turns to this night hour, and I feel... energised... energised to get my head down and work.
I'm alone. And I have once said, I'm alone but I'm not lonely; I have God for conversation. But I don't have God for conversation; God is quiet - too quiet. I have once said that I believe it is God who wants me to commit suicide. But it's not God, it's the fact that I'm alone.
But I know a lot of people. I could list them, but I won't, and they'd all be devastated to know I was dead. In some ways, perhaps I need to feel that love.
My nephews and niece are young children. They're young enough to be able to grow up and not to miss me. Tamsin says I should live for them, if no one else, because they'd want me around.
Ninety-nine percent of the time, I'm on my own, and I guess it's taking it's toll. They say go on an app. But I think you need a bit of confidence to do that, and you have to expect sex, and you have to have money, and be relatively healthy.
I don't think I will kill myself. I just don't have it in me to hurt all those people. And I don't feel sad, just frustrated. Writing helps.
Also, I have schizophrenia. Schizophrenics commit suicide.
It's an internal pain.
It's a discomfort.
It's a sorrow that scratches its fingers down your back, and does it all night and day for weeks on end.
I haven't played guitar in a while. Perhaps I should.
Do I want to kill myself? No I don't. I don't know what's after.
Although, I've heard heaven is five minutes away.
Should I turn to drugs? That is a thought I am seriously entertaining. I reckon a nice spliff would calm my nerves and make me feel relaxed and happy. It's a thought I'm seriously entertaining.
In any case, there's no need to quit the fags right now. In fact, they are my best friend. Having said that, it might be conducive to my plight and prerogative to resurrect.
I could become Christlike.
I don't actually have a lot to say. When you're thinking about suicide, it's a depressive thought, a cloud that hangs over your head.
Perhaps it's the new term? I remember when I fucked it up at university the first time; I tried to commit suicide within the first two months. It was very stressful.
I don't mean to make people worry. Not that anybody cares. Just another dead schizophrenic. But rather me than someone else. Someone else might beat me to it.
You know how I'd do it? I have these plastic cable ties. I'd tie one round my neck. I wouldn't cut my wrists; it's too unreliable. Besides, I have special tattoos, that I can't interfere with.
Dear Lord! Dear Christ! Save me from these thoughts! I love you.
anyway, that's it.