I fixed a meal on Monday that I barely ate... I still was not hungry yesterday but I didn't want to waste the food so I re-heated and ate it. The food was not great after being in the refrigerator a day and re-heated. But I didn't waste it. That was all I ate yesterday... so over the course of the last two days, I basically ate one meal.
I haven't eaten anything today. I drank some water. I don't know how I feel about eating today. I don't feel hungry. There is not any food at the moment that will go to waste if I don't eat today. I'm not really trying to extend my life at this point. I might be hesitant to make my attempt still, but I'm not actively trying to live longer either.
I don't have a headache today. I don't feel nauseous today. I don't feel weak today. I don't feel energetic, though. I could easily go back to bed and just lay there staring at the ceiling. I sneak peaks out the window sometimes, into the outside world in front of my house. There is not much to see. There is never any real reason to think someone will visit or call by surprise or even message or anything. I am about as alone as a person can be in this day and age.
That part of me still wants to live... still wishes for a change, a miracle... but every other part of me knows this is foolish. Just like it has been foolish any time in my life that I had hope, had confidence, thought or tried something and believed even for a moment that something good could, might, or was about to happen.
I have very little to show for my life. I feel like I've had a lot to offer, that no one ever wants... and I die a little more each and every day. I am hoping that soon I will reach that tipping point where I have died enough inside to not resist dying the rest of the way completely and ending this misery.