I just woke up from a dark, twisted, fucked-up dream. There was a funeral for me and I was still alive. Except for my sons, my family members were there to watch me take my own life. There were two planks. One with pointed metal straps for my neck, arms, and legs. One with a bamboo mat placed over and a red pillow with white powder. The powder would make me go to sleep in eternity.
My wife picked the latter and told me that one wouldn’t cut my neck. I thanked her and lay down to rest. As I closed my eyes and started to feel drowsy, I realized that she still cared about me. Then I thought about my kids. Why the fuck am I committing suicide when I still have to raise my kids? I got up and brushed the powder off my face.
What led to my suicidal ceremony was something hurtful I said to someone in our family. I suppose my brain was relaying what I had thought and written about yesterday.
Just to be clear. I do not have any suicidal thoughts. I am in no way of harming myself. I do not feel depressed. In contrast, my life is great. I have a wonderful family. My career is going fine. I love skiing, skating, and rollerblading. I enjoy a glass of wine every night, but I am not an alcoholic. I am trying to live my life because I never know when it is my time to go. I just had an absolute nightmare. I write it out so it doesn’t stay in my head.