digsite

..might kill me.

Before I knew that a couple of my family members might be reading (so I guess I shared it before I was ready - so my fault), I would spill my gutts all over this blog like in a toilet bowl on hangover morning. But now.. I’m apprehensive and I have this same battle every time there is something I need to get out but would rather the fam not find out about. There are those who like to either overreact, or say something completely ignorant. So for those family and close friends who do read, please don’t share this one with the family who don’t. And don’t ask me about it irl. This is for the blog (for the journal), I don’t want to open discussions on it.

I’ve written on here how I think about death all the time. Although I knew I was doing this more now than before having kids … by about 100 times more.. I thought it was just a part of my personality as a parent. And it probably still is. But two weeks ago things got a little out of hand when after a bad day at home I started to think about doing away with myself.  I always used to think the idea was ridiculous but for once and before I could stop myself the idea put a smile on my face and was sounding really good to me. The days following that have been hell. I’ve been so out of it that it’s been hard for me to simply communicate normally with people at work. I’ve tried to tell D about it but some part of me feels like he wants to block it out. I might be wrong about that but how would I know when he doesn’t seem very concerned about it. He might be concerned if he wakes up one morning and I’m not around anymore.

I’m a couple days away from trying to get help from my doctor. Me, a person who never thought I would consider going to a therapist or whatever, is going to do it. I have to. Because if I keep on this path I find myself on, I’m not going to stay around to see my old age. At least not as a happy person anyway.