LIMBO - To Die Or Not To Die?

NOTE: This post contains bad language and dark imagery. Reader discretion is advised.

WARNING! This post deals with the topic of self-harm, suicidal thoughts and suicide. If these are triggering subjects to you, please leave this blog.

For a while now, I've felt that I'm in some sort of Limbo. You know, that inexplicable place between what is and what isn't? It's like floating through life, where the whole of the world is a dark Gaussian blur, and you can't fall into that dark, sweet oblivion but waking up is impossible. It's like a longing for a non-existance, a release and relief into nothingness.

I've had suicidal thoughts for a long time.There are the regular, short, lucid moments in unipolar depression when you just start to wake up to how ridiculous you're being and you manage to get out of bed without expending a week's worth of effort... but those always give way again like a floor of rotting timber.

... and then you start to fall. It's slow and dark. It has an eerie whine and a pulling grey void that consumes you. Eventually... inevitably... you hit rock bottom.

That's just after the razors and the alcohol and the pills. It's that moment when you are trying to stop the bleeding or finish vomiting and you realise that this is it. This is what you're leaving behind. A bloody mess and the silhouette of a desperate soul.

It's not fucking worth it.

SO, you clean yourself up, stagger in to bed, sleep it off and awaken feeling better... and you maintain this until the cycle begins again.

It's exhausting. It's painful. It's chronic and debilitating. All you want to do is fall asleep and never wake up.

That's me. That's where I am.

I'm so tired.

But I'm lucid enough to write this post. I'm alert enough to realise that my thoughts are ridiculous. I'm me enough to know that this isn't where it ends.

But I have things to do. I can't sit here and cry forever. So I am going to get up, dust off the demons and move on... while I have this little bit of strength.