Don’t break the silence, don’t let me in…

Today is a hard day.  It’s 8:52am, and already I wish I had never woken up.  Granted I’ve only gotten about 45 minutes of sleep, so that may play a role in how I’m feeling, but realistically, I know it’s not a huge factor.

I have daydreams of falling.  They are so powerful, I can feel the air being pulled out of my lungs on the way down.  The mind is an incredible thing.  It can make you do and say things that can make you seem brave and fierce.  It can convey love, disdain, regret or hatred.

Did you know….

The suicide rate for Canadians, as measured by the WHO, is 15 per 100,000 people. Yet, according to numerous studies, rates are even higher among specific groups. For example, the suicide rate for Inuit peoples living in Northern Canada is between 60 and 75 per 100,000 people, significantly higher than the general population. Other populations at an increased risk of suicide include youth, the elderly, inmates in correctional facilities, people with a mental illness, and those who have previously attempted suicide. According to Statistics Canada, between 1997 and 1999, there was a 10 percent increase in suicides across Canada, from 3,681 to 4,074. In Ontario alone, suicides rose from 930 in 1997 to 1,032 in 2001.

That’s a lotta unhappy people.

The most popular way to kill yourself is via gunshot.  This poses several issues for me.  I don’t like guns.  I don’t own a gun.  No one I know has a gun, that I know of, but I doubt they would lend it to me.

Drug OD is the next most popular way to die.  That would be a lot easier, and in all likelihood, less messy and painful, though I’ve read that your body evacuates itself upon death.  That would be posthumously embarrassing.  I doubt I could “live that down”, if you’ll pardon the pun, in the afterlife.  No one would want to sit next to me.

There has to be a better place than this.

I’m supposed to be working – super busy day today.

I just can’t get my feet under me.  I can’t focus.  I feel like everything around me is playing on a movie screen, and I’m not an active participant.  I think the term is disassociate? I’m not connecting, and I don’t want to.   I would rather just curl up into a ball, crack open a bottle and get shitfaced.  This sobriety sucks ass, and is all too much work for this little engine.

I don’t understand why I’m here.  I don’t make anyone’s life better.  Quite the opposite, actually.  I “complicate”.


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