Third... third, I would like to thank my three main reasons for existing: Caleb, Kadin, and Ryan. If you'd have missed me, if you're in any way glad I exist, thank Ryan particularly. Without him I would have died Saturday.

Yes.

Died.

At my own hands.

See... well, no, let me post my writing at the time. We'll get back to Present Time in a bit.

- - - Written Saturday - - -

the 'net connection's being odd today. there's something bright neon and sticky spilled on the keyboard - it won't come off when i rub it but it clings to my fingers. i don't know when i will get to post this or even if it'll be posted at all, only that i have to write. fragments of last night are clinging... not the night that happened before today but the last REAL night. there's a song playing over and over in my head.

"i killed a million petty souls but i couldn't kill you...i slept so long without you...i see hell in your eyes...taken in by surprise...touching you makes me feel alive...touching you makes me die inside"

memory lane, neh? it's odd that the thing that most clearly takes me away from this place is something i've only really found here. that song...

...but it doesn't matter today. i'm blasting "strawberry gashes" because i don't have the album i need, the song i need. this will do. ...save all her ashes for me... yes, i am greedy. we've been over this ground before, haven't we? i want more, i need more, i expect more, and when it all tumbles down around my ears there's nothing left but memories and greed and this, unending empty songs that i wish i had written. "...she says feels fine it's wonderful wonderful here..." yeah. it is, you know. this trance state, this bitter deadly hollow trance that leaves me trembling with emotions i don't have names for... it's beautiful.

there's a bottle of nyquil and some razor blades.

hm.

i wonder how much i have to drink before i can't feel the blade.

we'll know soon.

the stuff tastes horrible, you know. suddenly i'm glad for the anbesol. if i numb my mouth enough i can get more down. if i get more down i can cut deeper. one cut.

one cut.

it's barely bleeding, actually.

anti-nausia medication. if i had pills i'd be taking them but all i've got right at the moment is homeopathic. i'm hoping it'll be enough.

no, i don't want to die.

i just don't want to live, either.

"...pale white skin that twisted and withered away from me...it's almost like losing myself...give her my soul and let them take somebody else get away from me watch me fault her for living like a disaster she said kill me faster with strawberry gashes..."

different song. counting crows. i'm not sleeping any more... no, that's the name of the song. the fact that i haven't had more than an hour running of sleep recently is a coincidence. it's a beautiful song.

i was happy.

i got to see caleb, then kadin, with ryan here. i got to see angel, to watch her sigh, to kiss her. i got so much wonderful and life has started to dive, worse and worse and worse, even with the anti-depressants this...

...i can't do this.

kadin... pam. go. find her.

caleb... tom. go. find him.

ryan... becca. go. find her.

rhett... elru... nreshan... daris... aleah... seit... talia... grr... Al X... scott... michael... 'stina... so many people. find each other. you can have what i don't.

you can.

i envy you.

...and angel... my angel, my Heart, the reason i survived to have what few moments of happiness anyone could ask for...

...thank you, all of you... thank you, thank you, thank you. for so much.

i'm staring at my wrist, or was a second ago. my breasts are marked, cut repeatedly. i've put on my oversize black shirt because among other things, it won't show the marks, won't show the blood, if i chicken out. it will be chickening out, you see: i've been thinking about this, considering this, since i had my first seizure. the second was scary, too. the third one, recent... they aren't going away. i don't want to lose my mind. i don't want to get any crazier than i am. i want to go out remembering the most wonderful people in the world and how much they mean to me.

please, listen. i know this sounds almost hypocrytical, but it's NOT... what i'm looking for isn't what most people need or what most people are. what i dream of is just that, a dream. what i need... the closest thing i've ever come to happiness can be ripped away by a forgetful moment. i want to die happy, it's all i want, all i've ever hoped for when you come down to it.

i want to die happy.

how hard is that to understand?

gods, that stuff tastes horrible. forget it - either i can go on my own or i shouldn't be going at all. it's about determination, after all.

the sun's shining in the window, and i'm sweating. how do you get up the courage to kill yourself, after all? how do you do something so selfish, so horrible, so... so final?

among other things, you put on "creep" by radiohead, you shiver for a moment with a cold you aren't even sure you feel, and you lick your lips once, twice. a sip of water. your eye on the blade. it's such a tiny piece of steel, and if you wanted to be SURE you'd have to let yourself soak. bathtubs are wonderful things. however...

...it's easier to get in the bathroom window than the bedroom window.

there's no chance of a kidlet coming in.

it locks.

you stare at the sky until you realize that you're not really seeing it, your vision's gone out again and you can barely type straight. pathetic, the only wounds out-of-sight and you here. here.

"...whatever makes you happy...whatever you want...you're so fucking special...i wish i was special...but i'm a creep...i'm a weirdo...what the hell am i doing here...i don't belong here..."

i don't belong here.

the nyquil is kicking in. that or the antihistamines. maybe some steroids?

no.

no.

take this three steps too far, the poison that runs its course through you, the medicine they thought would save you.

20 down the hatch. sits poorly, weighted in my throat, but i know it's going down. i'll chase it with some homeopathic to be sure.

"...some things you lose and some things you just give away..."

please, please, i don't have the strength to cut, i'm afraid i'll run, afraid i'll puke, afraid i'll end this before i have to, please give me strength to stay here, please let me die.

winamp just switched from strawberry gashes to another version of the same. i only have it on twice, with a decent selection, the world wants me gone, please please please pleasepleasepleaseplease it hurts to think, to type, to exist... the music is loud.

more.

she says feels fine it's wonderful wonderful here

maybe tums would help? no, don't dare risk something else.

careless. bottle knocked over. pills, not red liquid, i took another sip and i'm scared.

some things you lose and some things you just give away.

if only i'd held on tighter

watch me lose her

it's almost like losing myself

give her my soul

let them take somebody else

get away from her

kill me faster

there, a 13-track playlist with strawberry gashes playing twice. random selection.

you're living like a disaster

she said kill me faster with strawberry gashes

strawberry gashes all over all over me

more cuts

more

somehow

fuzzy

they're beautiful, you know, so beautiful to watch bleed, and i can't help being afraid

louder

if i drown in music i can't fear

more

get away from me

and it's my time, my life, i want to leave kill me faster

it's hard to type

the sun is in my eyes

i think that part of me is hoping to be found, to be stopped, and i can't figure out why. this is what i've been building up to for years. this is what i've never been strong enough to claim before. this is what i need.

this is what i am.

this is where i need to be.

see, coherant, nothing existing to fix me.

my feet are numb.

more red. more drink. i'll need more water soon.

should go get that after i empty the cup.

pale white skin with strawberry gashes all over all over watch me fault her...

..kill me faster...

another ten pills and i need more water.

got it.

down to seven songs, still two of them being those.

another drink of red.

i don't remember if i locked the door

I don't think i care any more

no one to find me

no one to hear me

no one to miss me

no one to know me

this is me this is who i am this is everything i am this is me here curling in on myself, stomach churning, and focusing again. punctuation was slipping. i refuse to have my last words be the joke of every english professor in the country.

...some things you lose, and some things you just give away...

i'm focused. i'm sweating something silly and it kind of hurts, i guess, that no one is here. i don't - didn't - want to die alone. it's fitting, though.

finally something else musically - Russian Lullaby by E Type. Shift key is easier to find now than it was, i think. still not worth really bothering with but it's worth noting. Easier to use caps than hunt down the... buggerit what are those called? The quotation marks. those.

"...when the seas are rolling in..."

pounding. pulsing. making up for the missing heartbeats. yes, i can feel them skipping now. it's harder to hear now, music just got turned up to the point where i can feel it but it's still hard to hear. i'll go back to strawberry gashes, that at least i know well enough that i don't need to hear it perfectly. it's clear, to me.

...save all her ashes for me...

medication sticking in my throat

more water mayube

but drinking doesn't help

i'm sweating lots, buckets, i can't tell if my cheeks are wet with tears because they're already so wet with sweat that i might as well be drowning...

it says don't take alcohol or nonprescription drugs with the anti-seizure medication. i wonder if that will make a difference since there;s alcohol in the red stuff - the nyquil not the spray.

deafening but i can't hear

can't drink right

numb to my knees

my fingers are twitching

please, whoever reads this, whoever finds this (which will likely be Ryan), post this. my password is ******* - the ones to everything i have are either ******* or **********.

pale white skin

strawberry gashes

my breasts are beautiful again

i wish i was strong enough to get my arms

blanked out

can't see right

love you ryan caleb kadin angel rhett

dad, i'm sorry

cookie to get the mess out of my throat

let them take somebody else

but this time they will take me because i am the one who wants and needs and begs to go

cremate me

a proper wake

angel IS invited

my mother is not, unless she's willing to get drunk too

a lock of my hair and a drop of my blood apiece to my boys, to angel, to rhett, and to grr

my books to caleb, ryan, kadin, to divide. my music to kadin - he appreciated it. my clothing to grr, becca, angel to divide. my gear to ryan except the spreaders which are for kadin. my blades to ryan and angel to divide since grr has plenty of her own and kadin might use them wrongly. anyone who wants them gets a mirror of my hard drive and a copy of "Strawberry Gashes" burned for them. any money passes in equal share to caleb, kadin,

- - - end of Saturday Narration, return to Present Time - - -

Ryan opened the door. Held me. Guessed. Fought me. No violence on my part really, not at that point. My breasts were covered by a dark shirt (although the Gawdaweful Pink Thing is now bloodstained) and I was weak enough that I hoped if I just asked, he would stop... that somehow I could delay him long enough...

...and I couldn't. He dragged me away from the door to the room, pulled me out, watched me as I sat on the sofa. He even got me a kitten to hold when I couldn't stay brave.

He rode in the ambulance with me.

He stayed until they'd gotten a tubefull of activated charcoal and KY jelly down my throat, held my hand, talked to me, and tried his best to keep me safe. He did keep me safe.

He held me.

Right now I'm playing "Slept So Long" off the CD I burned; actually I'm playing all of the music I played that night, letting myself feel it. Now that it's gone, that I've thought and thought and thought about what I did and why, now I can feel my hands shaking at how close I came. I can't believe I was that STUPID. The doctor at the hospital seemed a bit confused by my explanation and told me that I seemed intelligent and aware, that if I wanted to go he would release me into Becca's and Ryan's care. He seemed to think that I wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

I talked to Caleb tonight - incidentally, I'm still very woozy since due to a miscommunication I'd been apparently mildly OD'ing on Dylantin since Monday and my thoughts kind of bounce around - and hearing his voice... gods, but I couldn't keep the tears out of my voice. It was wrong of me to ever think of leaving without talking to my loves, without giving them the same chance I would expect them to give me. It was WRONG, is that clear enough?

I've promised Ryan, Caleb, and Becca so far a full year where I won't do this. No killing myself, not for ANY reason. No leaving. I will be here for them. I extend this same promise to a few others, binding my life. Kadin, Rhett, Angel, Grr. I will not.

I will live for the people who have made my life this happy. I will live for the people I nearly hurt more than I dreamed.

Among other things, now that I'm finally starting to sober up and calm down I am realizing how badly this would have hurt the whole household. I'm sure suicide would make social services required to look into them, I'm equally sure it would have had a bad effect on Maia and Rhi and I wouldn't do anything on the planet to make their lives hard, they are amazing kids.

I... Ryan is telling me about his exploding hamster grenade in some RPG. Liadin is lurking outside the door... I think she actually knew what was going on and tried to stop it, and she's been keeping a protective eye on me since I got home.

Anyway.

Back to what I'd meant to explain.

In addition to the several days of overdose I had taken an accidental OD only an hour earlier or so - I forgot I'd taken my morning dose and took it again, then when I realized what I'd done went into a massive funk about losing my memory. I've made this point before, that the happier I get the more I fear losing it and myself to the hell of a coma or worse.

Let it be said now, Caleb, Kadin, Rhett, Grr, Ryan... they vote. Majority has the right to take me off (or keep me on) life support. I trust them. Five people five votes, no one better than the others.

Heh. Now I'm waking up a bit... if only I could keep my hands from shaking. I haven't managed to actually pass the charcoal and my system's still pretty fucked up. I can't keep my balance walking and even sitting I feel dizzy. Tomorrow I'm going in to get anti-nausia meds and hopefully that'll help.

My parents came into town.

Seeing them down on the coast, seeing Angel, having had Caleb and Kadin so recently here, getting along with Becca, admiring Grr, loving Ryan... everything clicked, I guess is what I'm trying to say. For the first time in my life I've completely stopped looking.

This is me.

And I'm terrified.

So...

...you who have sat through this large entry, you who are a part of my life...

...I'm asking you for your help. Help me keep the courage to live this wonderful life.

Thank you.