The bottom line: there’s no truly safe place for me anymore. Even if that’s not true compared to how most people or other people measure safety but for me, I don’t feel like there’s solid ground under me no matter where I am. And that is not how I want to live. Sadly the thing I want most is to not have to deal with living this whateverthefuckitis life thing. I really don’t. There is too much insecurity, for me, and I have too little energy to do anything differently. So then what the fuck. What now.
I just want to be done. Whether that’s depression or suicidal ideations or a combination of defeatist thinking along with decades of loneliness I don’t really care anymore. Who gives a fucking shit why I don’t want to be here. Why is it mandatory to stick around. It doesn’t make sense to me to do this for other people but I guess I’ll fuck around and find out for as long as I can. But I’m not doing this for one minute longer than I have to and that really does mean pulling the plug once the parents are gone.
Not sorry. Just exhausted by the whole thing and I know my existence or lack there of won’t make much difference one way or the other. No one can convince me otherwise. The important people have what they need to continue and that’s what matters most. And no, I am not an important person. I’m expendable.