I have decided to die. I haven’t told anyone I know bc I don’t want to end up in a mental facility. First I have to clarify, I am in my mid 50’s. I’m not a teen or young adult. I’ve lived. I have fulfilled my “potential”. I can’t say that I don’t have ANY mental health issues (who doesn’t), but I am not mentally ill. I was abducted and sexually assaulted walking to school when I was 9 years old. My family ignored that it happened. I am the unfavored child of my mother bc she hates my father (he deserves it) and I think she just didn’t want to deal with it. She had her own problems. She was bitter, resentful, lacked empathy and was emotionally and physically abusive, particularly to me. So, I know I’m a little fucked up. But was she the worst of the worst…no. I did some minor self harm, would pray to die in my sleep, that sort of thing in my teens. Nothing too serious. Just perpetually scared and sad, zero self esteem. But not seriously effed up. But then I had my first child at 19 yrs old. She became my reason for everything…to get educated, to get a career, and most importantly to live. There was no way in hell I wanted her to end up with my mother. At 30 YO, I married and had a son a year later…a beautiful son. The marriage failed and he left the picture ( I can’t even begin to know what a good man looks like), but I had two beautiful children that I sank every dream, hope, opportunity, and dime into. I became nothing except for them. My daughter went off to college…started saying she was raised “poor” (I would say middle middle class) and body shamed me. I am fat. I ate my emotions instead of getting drunk or high or hitting my kids. She went on to NYC and Chicago, became very successful and gradually she just included me less and less in her life…until there was almost nothing. When I have felt someone didn’t want me around anymore, I have always just quietly went away, so I didn’t bother her. She was always “busy” if I called. Since my kids are 13 yrs apart, I had my son to sink my efforts into, which I did and raised him with the same fervor to dream big and become someone like I had with my daughter. Then in 2017, I was hit head on by a texting driver picking my son up from practice. My neck was broken and I had spinal injuries. I was left disabled. I lost my career. I struggle to walk and have nerve damage that I take medication for, but still experience a lot of daily pain. The idea that people get rich from car insurance, in Michigan at least, is a myth. I was awarded a one time payment of less than what I made per year in my job. I now live on 1/4 of what my income had been. After seeing my condition, my daughter made it clear to me not to count on her for any help I might need. She is brutally honest about her opinions and has never been nurturing. I’m happy she feeds her cat. Much of the idea of “caring” for me physically and financially as I age and worsen had fallen to my son who is now in college. In the midst of all this, in a long story I will cut short, I discovered my daughter was using illegal drugs. Yes, I read her the riot act. I asked the extended family to follow traditional intervention rules. My daughter began a smear campaign against me, telling anyone who would listen that I had been a terrible mother to her in her childhood. My mother was definitely listening and finally got her wish to have my daughter all to herself. Through their continuing campaign, I was made the bad guy in the story and now have no contact with my daughter or any of my extended family. They now have somehow bonded over having me as a common villain. All I had left was my son. I get it. That sucks for him. For over 4 years that has sucked for him. Recently, after the break up of his long term relationship, I received backlash from him. He has now made it clear that he feels I expect him to provide for me in the future and he doesn’t want that pressure. I don’t, but GD, that’s hard to hear. Hurt and angry, we argued. I haven’t heard from him now for almost two months. He knew this would leave me with no one. But he’s right. He doesn’t deserve the burden of me. He’s still a college kid. I put everything into my children, work and kids, that’s it, so made no real friends over the years. I’m now completely alone. I go for weeks on end with no human contact except for a neighbor who calls me about once a month to “see if I’m alive in there.” Bless her, bc I really feel like one day I won’t be. I look into the future and it is so fing bleak. Who wants an obese cripple like an albatross around their neck? I fall in my house often and I’ll end up in a facility before long when I break something. Neither of my kids want me, that’s been made clear. I see all these other moms who have kids that love them so much, I don’t understand. IDK, maybe I WAS a bad mom??? Fat, alone, crippled, in pain, and broke…that’s my future. I have a therapist, but she misses our call appointments all the time. I can’t even PAY someone to listen to my bullshit, lol. So I’m here. I tried doing it a couple weeks ago, but I had the science of the plan wrong. I woke up 6 hours later, disappointed and sick for 4 days. I have since been very pragmatic in researching all my options. I don’t want pain or blood or a coma…I just want to fall deadly to sleep listening to my favorite band. I’ve gone over several options, success rates, survival side effects, etc. I think I have settled on a pretty foolproof plan. No one checks on me regularly so I will be long gone before anyone notices. It also takes my pets with me since I don’t want them to end up in shelters. That’s good. I’ve written my letter, and my after death wishes and instructions. No funeral necessary. I know people say suicide hurts the people who are left behind, but I’m being very honest, this is not self pity, nobody will miss me that much. I am not a daily thought to anybody. It will hurt some for a little while, but eventually it really won’t be any different for them than it is now. Plus, I’m worth more to my kids dead than alive. They will get my settlement money instead of it being wasted on me. My son can live his life with no weight on his young shoulders. I’m severely diabetic, obese, in pain every day, on medication that will eventually kill my liver and gives me ulcers, and can’t adequately care for myself…genetically, I also potentially have breast cancer or Alzheimer’s to look forward to. I am headed there anyhow. I feel like I am just taking a shorter, easier route to the same end. I don’t know when exactly yet, but I feel like pretty soon. I don’t know why I felt like I had to tell someone, but I did. Maybe it makes it real and tangible, like a promise. Please don’t think this is a cry for help or attention seeking. Don’t send me the 800 # (I’ve seen it hundreds of times in my research) Don’t send me prayers. I’m Catholic. I know the “rules”, but they’re bullshit. Don’t send me any self help or “things will get better” BS. They won’t. I feel like I am being very practical, considerate, and realistic. I don’t feel like I am doing anything wrong. I literally feel like it will be a relief to everyone. I just want my out sooner rather than later.
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