“Worth to live this life”
Right now, I can think like this. But just a few hours ago, my suicidal desire was too strong.
In the mental hospital, I’ve claimed how I was feeling about my life.
“I don’t deserve to be alive”
“I should be dead”
“I’m not worth to be alive, everyone in my head shout that I should kill myself”
Then my doctor said to me, looking into my eyes;
“Look, there’s no reason or worth or ‘deserve’ or anything to be alive.
The important thing is, to believe in the hypothesis, which you gotta live through”
I cried, sobbed, because of relief. May I, Can I, live this life for sure?
After I left there and smoking in the cafe, I was not calm at all. I mean, I was excited. Excited to continue to live.
Also I thought that I can do more, I can make greater efforts for everything: writing, housekeeping, work-out, care of my husband, and so on. EVERYTHING.
…Lights are always so far away from me.
Even feel like I’m an insect on the ground looking up them.
But so what? Who really cares?
I’m gonna make fxxking efforts to live through this.
And it should be worth to write.