Is this a cry for help?
No. I want it to be over now. I’m done.
Why did you reach out?
I don’t know. Guilt? A last gasp of survival instinct? A sliver of hope?
What are you going to do now?
Live through today. Tonight is a different matter.
What do you need in order to keep going?
Things to look forward to. Little things to drag me through the day. A little long term hope.
What can people do to help?
Give me reasons for living. Make plans. Be there. Make me feel less alone. Reach out to me where I’m at, in the place where hopes and dreams have died, and give me real and concrete reasons for living. Not “I care about you”. “Let’s catch up on this date at this time”. Solid things that I can hold on to. The wisps of love and caring are sweet and appreciated but I can’t grasp on to them and pull myself towards them.
What doesn’t help?
Guilt trips. Think of the children, what about all the people you will hurt. That shit won’t fly any more, and I don’t feel the need to listen. Reach out to me on the level I’m on, the level where the world is better off without me, and give me hope there, not guilt that belongs to a higher level of functioning. I will cut you off.
If it all goes to hell, if I don’t make it out alive, there is nothing you could have done. I’m badly broken, and there’s a good chance it’s only a matter of time before I check out. But I’m hanging on right now. I’m trying. I’m giving myself the best chance I can, by reaching out and drawing from inside simultaneously. It could be enough for a while.