Okay So… Killing Myself.

Okay so…. Killing myself. Once killing myself felt like a destination, like it had already been written down somewhere random in the future of my timeline, declaring it’s ending. Killing myself felt like the safest way to go on. Thoughts of killing myself showed up as naturally as smoke shows up over an open fire and life helped me fan my flame day after day. Thoughts of killing myself were always the dark secret that I kept hushed away behind closed eyelids, clenched teeth, and stiff fists. Killing myself wasn't always apart of my always. I will forever remember that day on the bridge, every time I walk on it now. I remember the feeling of the railing underneath my foot, the other pressed tightly against my palms, waiting to take and let go of my body's weight in a matter of an instant. These moments sprinkled in my slide show of memories show me that it is not my destination but it was a part of my journey. Killing myself always seems to try and be a part of my story, and I narrate it so well with my thoughts, I can watch it like a film, or read it like a book, or hear it like a song but feel it, live in it like a place, that just doesn't work. So I will walk across that bridge again, and I'll look down below and I'll see the passing cars and feel the burning on my skin and the buzzing in my head. I'll shut my eyes and whisper “You've survived so much worse than this, your heart has fallen farther then that and still survived, gaining more scars. But those are just the scars that you see everytime you close your eyes and each one screams I've been through worse and I haven't died yet!. And god dammit has it been hard, you didn't think you'd get this far, and yet you're still so far behind. But I am still moving, still breathing, still alive.” Now I just shut my eyes so my memories flip the slide to some other picture, some other memory I likely do not wish to see. Maybe those thoughts are the result of some other abnormality and they will never fully go away, they're that one picture you jump to change when showing the slideshow you made of your vacation to anyone who wishes to see it, but you never remember to take it out. They're that one flavor of candy you hate but it doesn't stop you from buying mixed bags. They're that one friend you still have only because you don't remember ever being without them. Killing myself over the years has become less of an inescapable fate and more an opportunity I don't have to take, you can envision it like you can envision showing up to school with no pants on, only it's the inside of your skin that's being exposed to the light. Each day I wake is a day I fight, but the battles are useless, if I hadn't let it win before I am not about to start, there are no awards for participation in the workings of my mind. They are my companies largest liability and they just can't be fired. They are in me on a mission, to remind me of the decisions I’ve made, and to try and keep me looking towards my destination, instead of rewatching slideshows of places I barely escaped.