There’s a part of me that wants to destroy me for being undesirable.
TW: Suicidal thoughts
In two weeks it will be eleven years since I was in a romantic relationship.
In two weeks it will be seven or eight years since I re-framed it to being in a committed relationship with myself.
In two weeks arrives my most fearfully anticipated day of my life so far.
I can’t fully explain what is going on, perhaps I never will, but I do know I have spent hours and days in recent months with the strongest sense of anxiety and dread that I’ve ever felt.
The sadness is all-encompassing.
The confusion is discombobulating.
The terror un-nerving.
All of these feelings have part of me internally rolling my eyes clambering to minimise the experience because it’s unnecessary and seemingly immature.
But then the fear that the billowing waves of nausea will never end and will only get worse seeps into every cell and the only thought I have is “this must end”. I can’t see how my circumstances can change any time soon, so these upsetting feelings will find no relief. Rather than experience this torture for decades more I start to think about the possibility that I might not survive this.
