Some people dream of winning the lottery. It gives them hope. Gives them a way out. When things get hard, or mundane, they think āwhat would I do if I hit the jackpot?ā. Itās their escapism high. Looking forward to a better life. A brighter future than the life in which they currently reside.
For me though, my thoughts often veer towards āI could just end it allā. Sometimes itāll come on from big, overwhelming news, and others from the most minor inconveniences of daily life. I donāt know when I stopped looking forward. Not sure when my hopes of a better future took a turn. But nothingness sounds lovely, doesnāt it? Because the idea of things ever getting better feels like a far fetched joke these days.
As a child, my grand plans to escape were āsomeday Iāll move to Portlandā. When school was too much, and home didnāt feel safe - I would fantasize about getting in my car, and not stopping til I got there. Hereās the thing though; it took me while, but I did eventually make it to Portland. Iāve been here 10 years now. Things never got better. Well, some things did, but not enough. Brain surgery, spine surgery, chronic illness, trauma recovery, a pandemic, having my heart broken over and over again by life - and people; itās all so fucking hard.
Iāll know itās over when I start selling everything. Iāll put in my notice at my apartment, but never search for a new one. Find a kind, loving home for my dog. She deserves better than someone who can barely peel themself out of bed most days. And then thatāll be that. Iāll write the letters; tell my loved ones just how much I appreciate them, say my goodbyes. And then Iāll be gone. Itāll all be over.
The very last bit always gets me. None of my other executions have worked. To be fair, all of those were on a whim. Very little thorough thought. No letters to anyone. Just immediately wanting to jump through the escape hatch.
I have more patience now. I have the plan above to set in motion. But how will I enact the final act? Itās gruesome business successfully ending it all. Pills have never worked for me. Itās always a bust. Hanging? Jump from a bridge? Guns feel too violent; and I donāt have one anyway. Street drugs feel too out of character for me. I think Iād like to go skydiving, and just never deploy the parachute. Iāve been once. It was one of the most beautiful, thrilling, and terrifying experiences of my life. In an ideal world, I think thatās how I would go. Sounds breathtaking. And quick. And what a stunning view to go out on.
My apologies to whoever has to clean me up though. Iām pretty sure thereās people whose careers are crime scene cleaners. What a job. What a life. I hope their job makes them appreciate their own lives. I hope they still dream of winning the lottery.
blakekathryn
jacobvanloon
pixelskylines