Suicide Note

 I've decided to end my life soon. I will not say when or how. 

This serves as my suicide note. I want people to understand I only wanted a better life. Not this constant pain.

I gave money to build up Bitcoin and it is a lot. But Kaitlyn, who is helping me, she can't do it for some reason. She should not have contacted me at all, I would not be in this situation.

So I am being thrown out of my home of 10 years. Just as well, I never liked it here. 

I have given my reasons and I know people will miss me, or be angry, I don't give a fuck. You didn't help me so there's that. 

I had intended to do this in 2010 but something stopped me, nothing is now. 

I say goodbye to my friends. I am sorry, Angela. 

I will quote from the song that means most to me, I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here.

That is a fact. I am signing off as Ar-Ghost, this is my last post. 

Feeling

I could go out and hang myself right now. I am feeling that way. But I have things I want to do. It is only a few days when I can go to the store and get my hair cut and finally do my laundry.

I hate being male.
I hate other peoples' apathy
I hate physical pain in my pelvic area
I hate breathing
I hate peeing
I hate anxiety I cannot control.

What does this mean? Has it come to the breaking point? Not really. I lack the materials needed to hang myself. I can remedy this in a few days.

I have no children, no love, no family of my own. I turn 40 a year from my b-day this year.

I may not look it but I am older. I feel it. Of course, that can be inactivity. Do you think I am going out into the sunlight to 'exercise'? You must be joking.

Near the beginning of the month, I received the new issue of 'Archaeology'. I said I will read it when I do my laundry. It has rested on that table for almost a whole month, the time in which I have not been able to do my laundry.

If I killed myself, laundry wouldn't matter. Nothing would, hardly a change from what life is like for me now.

I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye.

Awful Situation

I don't know if I mentioned it before but my sister is a tetradisaster. Everything she touches is destroyed. This includes the unstable quietness here.

She knows I have anxiety disorder but continues to wale on it like whipping it with a barbed wire wrapped stick.

She was doing this as I was getting ready to go wash my clothes for the first time in three weeks. Oh, so angry, shaking. She caused extreme panic last night by running all the gas out of the truck so that I barely made it to Cove. Talk about a white-knuckle ride, it was.

Now, it was generally known that I was going to wash clothes. I had to do another thing that is nearing its completion.

My sister's harangue caused a panic reaction so I forgot what shoes I was wearing. I had to avoid before she provokes a suicidal panic.

So, I left the house, only to find the Laundromat I have used for almost 20 years is closed. I went to a newer one that is more expensive and had to endure an hour of 'The Dog Whisperer'. (ick... :( I don't think so.) An unfamiliar area and the general discomfort of sunlight and people speaking a language I have a limited understanding of (Spanish).

This was awful. I had to go to the bank for more quarters. I hadn't noticed until I was leaving to go back to the truck. My shoes....

If I had a gun, I would shoot myself. My sister caused the anxiety that led to me wearing the wrong shoes. I can't believe it. It's not like I can feel a difference. They fit the same.

I don't know if I will be okay. You know, Hate Sunday is coming up.

I am posting a picture of my shoes so you can see. It's fucking stupid. I feel terrible. Stupid. Unworthy.

This would be my old shoe and new shoe, both New Balance. I went into the sunlight to show this.

I am serious. I thought about hanging myself. Then something I read a long time ago that when a male is hung, he generally has an involuntary erection. I don't want to be found like that. So I dismissed this for the time being but you know, it is going to happen again.

It may be time to use my Medicare and go get help before I do act on this thinking and kill myself.

Troubles

You may not know, that on August 24, 2008, I attempted suicide. I used a pair of sharp scissors. I did not succeed because my sister interrupted me.

Why? Stress at wm mainly, it was a bad time for me then. August is when I took my vacations because it is my favorite time of the year. Good things happened to me in August's of the past.

But fast forward many years now. I do not have the stress I did at wm. instead, I have shame. Shame that I am childless at age 38, not because I can't physically, it is this fucking anxiety disorder.

If you don't have it, you can't understand it. It is like a constrictor snake around the soul. When provoked, it constricts. That is a pretty good analogy for what I feel.

When stressed, get away, stop it. Avoid. Can't do that if the stressor is work or somewhere away from home.

I watch a lot of tv. This isn't like all the time. I write stories most of the time and don't pay attention to a lot of it. I have been keeping up with this missing airplane and the potential for war in Russia.

I watch the usual shows, WWE, racing, Lockup, occasionally a movie, but other than the news, not much else.

I mention tv because we are inundated with happy images of parents and children. If this is the norm, does this make me abnormal? Is it possible even, to even hope that I can have a child?

Why can't I? Anxiety. In sex, it has happened in all the times I have done it. Anxiety that this awesome responsibility could happen. I am on Social Security. How could I provide for a child? Would a child not be a stressor for anxiety? Judging from my niece, yes.

Summer is a hard time for me. Not because people wear less and are generally better looking. But is a lonelier time for me. I generally write better stories when I am able to go out and see things. Meet new people, see my friends in reality, instead of FB.

Then there is a class reunion this summer. 20 years. It is so hard to believe that it has been 20 since that dark night in the football stadium. People cheered when I got my diploma. 

If I only had known then what I know now.

The world changed since then. Uncertainty became the norm.

Uncertainty is a stressor.

It is my intention to get a new bicycle for exercise purposes. I will wait until it is warm to ride it, which will be before I get it, actually. I will wear shorts.

Wearing shorts is a stressor. I have male legs, yes, I am hairy like a hobbit there. That is okay, I am a guy. What isn't okay is skin the color of milk in the sunlight.

I do not tan and frankly, skin that hasn't seen sunlight in decades, as I always wear pants, could be scorched. I don't want sunburns, I do not want to look old. When my peers have lined faces, wrinkles and a general worn look, I don't.

Aging is a huge stressor. Can't stop it. It is the entropy of time. Time has passed, 38 years. you know, in the old days, like up until 1800, this was as long as people lived.

There is a remote possibility, cannot rule it out, that I will get a new girlfriend this summer. Will she be a stressor? If she's anything like Jen, yes, but I don't believe that is like that. I mean, everybody is different.

No, a girlfriend is like a salve, a panacea to stressed feeling. This is a benefit better than any medicine and the side effects aren't always bad.

It isn't going to happen, pragmatism says. I am not social. I don't go anywhere. When I do go somewhere, it is like a trouble storm. Driving is a huge stressor. Then other people.... the main reason I have anxiety disorder?

Being small and hobbit-like, I am not that appealing. I am not that small. I am 64.5 inches tall.

I honestly think, if I ever get a place of my own, something that scares me, honestly, I would be more open to getting a new girlfriend.

Why bother? If life stresses me, why bother?

This summer is going to be tough.

I will talk later about losing 10 lbs, can't lose any more because I would be underweight then.

I have been fooled into thinking exercise would help eliminate body pain.

Body pain, that is a very big stressor.

Hate

I don't hate anyone. I don't have contact with many people on a daily level, being agoraphobic.

I have enmity, for Jen, but that was because she hurt me. I don't hate her.

I have a strong dislike to some others.

But who reads my blog? From foreign countries? Would it kill you to leave a comment? You can do so anonymously.

I am growing to strongly dislike this whole thing. Life. None of it matters. I fight a daily battle not to go outside, strip to my underwear and hang myself from a tree.

Goodness knows I have thought of it often.

Personal Pain

Step into my pain for a moment. This pain will cause my suicide one day, not today.

It is not as simple as a cut or broken bone. It is not like a headache or when one's back hurts. It hurts more, deeper and scars my soul.

I was born in a small town in Tx. I was loved when I was a child. I was the only male grandchild until my cousin was born in Dallas when I was 12. I had potential. I could win the heart of any girl. I was sweet, cute, smart. Ask anyone who knew me as a child, they saw this.

Then my grandparents started to die. My grandmothers in 1977 and 1987. My grandfathers in 1991 and 1992. Of course, like my grandfather WL (Bill) Thompson, he would be 94 this year. Who wants to be that old and infirm? I shudder at the thought of the master plumber and WWII Marine reduced to a pale shadow of the man he had been.

Then I turned out to be shy. Okay. A lot of people are shy but not like this.

Consider using a phone. Simple right? I have a very hard time answering a phone. I could do it at wm because I took Celexa which deadened my anxiety reflex somewhat. I would MUCH rather text message than talk. I have a very cheap and sorry AT&T plan that doesn't have many minutes because I don't talk on the phone. I'd rather write what I am going to say. It is easier and I can write well, a talent I cultivated.

Don't say that I don't have a talent for writing. You write thousands of short stories and then you can judge. This talent is very important. It keeps me from killing myself. I can sit down and write and pour emotion into it. I don't feel better, but I have a clarity afterwards. I will have thought of consequences, effects, the promise of Salvation, denied if I commit suicide.

I am not particularly religious. My beliefs are somewhat held with a certainty that the whole story cannot be told and some things we aren't meant to know. I believe most in Causality. This is not about my beliefs, other than how they keep me from hurting myself. How strong is this?

My faith in Salvation is powerful but pain can overwhelm this.

What is this pain?

I am constantly reminded by my memory that life was not meant to be this way. This comes in dreams, in things I remember. Certain movies and music can cause this memory pain. I do not watch movies except maybe one in a great while. I delete songs from my wmp playlist that cause a memory pain. I cannot look at a picture of Jen. I cannot watch all 6 Star Wars movies. ESB causes a powerful emotive pain. That is why I remember when I first saw it, years ago, when I was a kid.

How much a kid do I remain? Consider this. I live at home. I have no wife, no children, not even a friend with benefits. I do not know if I can get into another relationship. The pain is too great.

My work record contains 7 years (and counting) unemployment. I was unemployed between 2002 to 2006, and from 2010 to now. What happened between those years? WM did.

I left wm on April 24, 2010 and was self-terminated on the 1st of June of that year. I could not go back. I just couldn't. I would have killed myself because the pain is too much.

It goes back to shyness. I have always been shy. I have spent the lion's share of my adult life alone. I may live at home but I live a very private life. No one bothers me.

In that time alone, I developed something called Social Anxiety Disorder. A defining feature of this debilitating mental condition is the panic reflex. I have panic attacks out of the blue sometimes, but most of the time, something causes it, driving, going to the store or an unfamiliar place. This made it hard to be with Malee. Something she did not understand.

I avoid A LOT. I don't go to the movies, I don't go to the mall anymore. I would rather buy it at Amazon but even going to the Post Office is hard for me. I go after it has closed, when no one is there to check the PO Box but I haven't even done that in months.

I don't even go outside unless I have to. I have lived where I do for 13 years, it is familiar, yet I can't deal with being outside.

Along the way, mainly because of stuff that happened at wm, hateful coworkers, indifferent managers, one who was racist against white people. WTF? Then Jen is there. I could not see her in person, no, I couldn't. I would be reminded of how she broke my heart. The pain she caused scarred my soul.

I developed agoraphobia because of the lack of treatment for my Anxiety Disorder. I do not have health insurance being unemployed. I cannot go see the doctor so he cut off my anxiety med. What the fuck? Did he know this could happen?

Because of agoraphobia, I don't go outside. I would sit here for months at a time. I cannot do that and prepare for my elder life. I can't go deal. It has become too painful to deal with.

Feeling is magnified. You may get angry sometimes, I become enraged. You may feel sad, I feel like crying.

This feeling I fear would give me the nerve to kill myself. I try to avoid feelings. Being Straight Edge, I deal with it on my own. No drink or drugs.

Oh, and the stress this has caused is enormous. Aside from raised blood pressure, I have stress damage to my prostate gland. It will hurt for the rest of my life. It hurts to pee. It hurts when I have an erection. It hurts when I lay down. It especially hurts when I have to go potty. (Sorry, I can't say certain things).

What is a prostate gland? It is a walnut shaped gland surrounding the urethra at the base of the bladder. I know exactly where it is because of the pain and then the tests done to reckon that it is stress damaged. It will only get worse as I get older.

As I sit here, I can't feel it if I have to pee. It only comes when I get up and walk around. That is not good.

Aside from the physical pain, I have other things to deal with. I will talk about my bedroom another time. It is where I spend 99% of my time. You can see Hwy 190 out of my window, it is only a couple hundred feet away.

I am reminded that life outside is busy, purposeful. I have no purpose and I stay busy with writing and playing games like Spore that waste A LOT of time. That is the point of that, actually.

My memory reminds me that this was not supposed to happen. I should be successful with a wife and kid, Id only have one. As I get older, it becomes apparent that this is not going to happen.

What is the point of going on, then? I failed at the one biological duty of all life forms. Reproduce.

Not that the world needs another human being.

No, not in this life. Perhaps in the next, if I am lucky.

There are other things that bother me. The allergies, the fact that I go hungry sometimes. Ramen is not a meal. I do not care what you say. Oh, then there's the fact that I have myopia and can't see without my glasses. I live with people who smoke. What damage has that done that is not yet apparent?

Changing any part of my life would take money and Herculean effort. It will likely fail anyway.

My parents won't live forever. This worries me more than anything. I have never been on my own. I do not know if I could live on my own. WTF? I am 36 years old. How did this happen?

Life will be fragilely stable for some time yet. If I do not prepare now, I will fail.

How can I prepare being unemployed with a debilitating mental condition? This question is a constant worry of mine.

It would be easy to say fuck it all and kill myself. But that is not only is a disservice to my family, my friends, others, it endangers my very soul.

I will be here for some time yet. I can't say that it's a garden party but I will try to make it so.