Every waking moment my brain is trying to convince me to end it, there’s not a breath a take in peace. Suicide isn’t death, suicide is peace.
And yet unfortunately I have to wonder if the absolute absence of everything truly is better than feeling everything we must in the moment. Do I really want to sacrifice feeling sunshine and smelling rain and eating a fresh chocolate chip cookie and laughing so hard my lungs burn to never cry myself to sleep or feel so endlessly hopeless that I shouldn't even exist? I'm so scared of not feeling or seeing anything, ceasing to exist at all because despite feeling the most intense and greatest depths of pain, I have also seen amazing sums of beauty and joy? Is it okay to live for experiences, even if I may feel hopeless throughout some of them?
I love to live despite longing to die. The ultimate contridiction.
But I know death is something I can't undo. Everything else... is simply waves in the ocean. Even if you aren't strong, just... keep wading in the tide with me. Float on, please. As much it doesn't feel it, there are things worth living for. They may be little, or feel silly to hold on to, but they're worth it. As are you. As am I, as much as my mind loves to say otherwise.