This strip, well, minus the talking book, is pretty accurate for myself. It’s amazing that even though I’m far from those days by like a decade that those thoughts still hover in the background when stress rises. Maybe creating The Plan creates some kind of mental scar that never heals, a decision you can never take back. I don’t know, I wish it wasn’t there.
It has been about thirty years since I propounded The Plan to my wife. I thought she would be favorable, if not delighted. She wasn’t, which is why I’m still here on the bus. It still comes back to engage in discussion every week or two, but as long as wife is here, I will be too.
My plan never got past the means, so I never got around to selecting a date. One time I told a psychiatrist that I figured I’d be dead within a year or so, not as a threat or a plan but a simple statement of fact, like saying that I expected the weather to get colder. I think that’s when they started to take me seriously.
The worst part is how much having The Plan actually fucking helps.
I’m NOT stuck. There IS a door out. It CAN end. So this ISN’T hell.
I can still trade up to hell, if it becomes the lesser of two evils.
Ouch.
Yup. I sure do remember. All too well. I wonder if you can ever kick that little voice far enough, or does it remain forever there… hovering around.
This strip, well, minus the talking book, is pretty accurate for myself. It’s amazing that even though I’m far from those days by like a decade that those thoughts still hover in the background when stress rises. Maybe creating The Plan creates some kind of mental scar that never heals, a decision you can never take back. I don’t know, I wish it wasn’t there.
It has been about thirty years since I propounded The Plan to my wife. I thought she would be favorable, if not delighted. She wasn’t, which is why I’m still here on the bus. It still comes back to engage in discussion every week or two, but as long as wife is here, I will be too.
My plan never got past the means, so I never got around to selecting a date. One time I told a psychiatrist that I figured I’d be dead within a year or so, not as a threat or a plan but a simple statement of fact, like saying that I expected the weather to get colder. I think that’s when they started to take me seriously.
I remember making my own plan when I was younger. I still think now to use it when I have my “low days”, which are becoming more frequent.
The worst part is how much having The Plan actually fucking helps.
I’m NOT stuck. There IS a door out. It CAN end. So this ISN’T hell.
I can still trade up to hell, if it becomes the lesser of two evils.
It was a lot easier back when I had an OD dose hidden for emergencies. I always know I wasn’t stuck. Unlike now.