Blueberry Panic
The Gallow Rose
- Jan 5, 2025
- 1,652
Every day carries this weird sense of finality, like the air itself is already packing up.... I wake up with the quiet certainty that I'm moving toward an ending I didn't choose but can see clearly now. Not a future. Not growth. Just blankness. Just death.
I don't feel dramatic. I feel finished. Like the story already resolved itself off-screen and I'm just scrolling through the credits, pretending there's a post-credit scene where something suddenly matters again... but the post-credit scene never comes ... no resolution no ending that matters just a horrible cut off point without a real conclusion.
I keep waiting to feel wrong about this, to panic or fight it. Instead there's this dull acceptance, much heavier than the fear.No grand collapse. No meaning wrapped in tragedy. Just the slow understanding that nothing is coming, and nothing was ever promised.
And the worst part isn't even the thought of killing myself. It's realizing I might've been chasing something that never existed in the first place, and that all this effort, all this pain and suffering for people who wouldn't have ever actually stuck around , was for a future that was never going to exist anyway.
I didn't ruin me ,people ruined me.
Letting myself get close to people and caring so deeply about these people only for them to take advantage of me... ruined me.
My problem was showing that I cared so fucking much that I would hurt the people around me... that I would constantly fight these suicidal urges just for them to spit in my face over and over and tell me I was the problem.
I was never the problem... being forced to stay alive for people who didn't appreciate me for trying was the problem.
This year was a testament to me trying ... to force myself to live when I didn't want to , it was the final push to get better but failing miserably everytime.
In my mind I died the day my fiance took his life... I just didn't want to admit it ... I didn't want to let go of this existence because I felt like I had more to do but... I don't. I never had a reason to stay because the only reason I had to live hung himself 2 years ago.
I don't care if I hurt anyone anymore, because I honestly wouldn't be able to see it anyways.
I don't feel dramatic. I feel finished. Like the story already resolved itself off-screen and I'm just scrolling through the credits, pretending there's a post-credit scene where something suddenly matters again... but the post-credit scene never comes ... no resolution no ending that matters just a horrible cut off point without a real conclusion.
I keep waiting to feel wrong about this, to panic or fight it. Instead there's this dull acceptance, much heavier than the fear.No grand collapse. No meaning wrapped in tragedy. Just the slow understanding that nothing is coming, and nothing was ever promised.
And the worst part isn't even the thought of killing myself. It's realizing I might've been chasing something that never existed in the first place, and that all this effort, all this pain and suffering for people who wouldn't have ever actually stuck around , was for a future that was never going to exist anyway.
I didn't ruin me ,people ruined me.
Letting myself get close to people and caring so deeply about these people only for them to take advantage of me... ruined me.
My problem was showing that I cared so fucking much that I would hurt the people around me... that I would constantly fight these suicidal urges just for them to spit in my face over and over and tell me I was the problem.
I was never the problem... being forced to stay alive for people who didn't appreciate me for trying was the problem.
This year was a testament to me trying ... to force myself to live when I didn't want to , it was the final push to get better but failing miserably everytime.
In my mind I died the day my fiance took his life... I just didn't want to admit it ... I didn't want to let go of this existence because I felt like I had more to do but... I don't. I never had a reason to stay because the only reason I had to live hung himself 2 years ago.
I don't care if I hurt anyone anymore, because I honestly wouldn't be able to see it anyways.
