070321

content warning: main theme of suicide, suicidal ideation, depression, death I am supposed to die today. Sunday 7th March 2021. 07/03/21 7 x 3 = 21 My three favourite numbers. A numerically perfect date. A Sunday, the end of another week of pain – a quiet day, a day of rest, and I’d never have to live another Monday again. Neither dark midwinter nor springtime in bloom, not during any festivities, no birthdays or anniversaries or celebrations or holidays to ruin or miss. Sunday 7th March is the perfect time for me to die. A date circled in my diary, an alarm set on my phone, so long spent counting down the year, weeks, days to my death day. Knowing that it’s coming closer, that soon it’ll all be over, that I have an appointment with Death, I’m booked in, Death is expecting me on 7th March, it’s sorted – this has been such reassuring knowledge to me. “You can’t die on 11th December, it’s not a perfect date.” “Don’t you dare die now, it’s a Tuesday, everyone has work tomorrow, you’ll fuck up their work-week.” “Just make it to 7th March then you can go, and it’ll be perfect, it’s the perfect day to die.” Lots of people know that I have had this death date in mind for a long time – nobody is aware, however, of the actual date itself. Obviously, I refused to disclose that with anybody who asked. My death is going to be perfect, I won’t allow anybody to ruin it; I deserve a lovely death on my own terms, done my way, and it will be perfect. Now, at 7 a.m on my death day, I am still alive, and still in pain, and will not be dying today.

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I will not be dying today for several reasons: Covid19, a global pandemic, has prevented me from doing the things I need to do, seeing the people I need to see, visiting the couple of places I have to go to before I can die I am still waiting to hear the response of a handful of people who are reading my book ‘History of Present Complaint’ (which was released 9 days ago) and feel like I can’t leave until I know what they think of it I do not have the money to get the things I need to die and pay for my cremation There’s a chance I may be put on a new anti-depressant which may make a difference to my suffering – I will find out if I can have this new medication on 9th March. I don’t think I will get the news I want. Long story short, because of the pandemic and my current financial circumstances, I don’t have the things I need to die my perfect death today.

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My brain is too tired to function today, I feel strangely calm, quiet. Here’s what I wrote in my diary in the early hours of this morning:           If HoPC hadn’t been picked up by Steve (Stephen J. Golds) in October, I doubt that I would have made it to my death day – I would’ve been dead for some time already, but gone on an imperfect date. If the pandemic hadn’t happened, I absolutely would be dying my perfect death today. I’m sad knowing that I won’t be dying today – very sad.

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So here I am, not dying on my Death Day. Writing a blog post for some reason, to announce to strangers that I am supposed to die today but I can’t, I’m not going to. I’m not in crisis, I’m not in any kind of emotional wreck, I’m not in any greater danger of hurting myself today than I am on all other days, and this may not make sense to you but I’m not actually suicidal. I want to die but I can’t do it properly or perfectly so I won’t – I’m not suicidal, I’m just very tired. I’m also very grateful: for having my kitten Ludo snoring away on the table next to me as I type this; for having friends and family that I’ll get to see eventually; for having books to read, people reading my book, supporting me and my story and my words, for having you reading this, listening to me, hearing me. I’m not going to die today. I’ll find another perfect date. But it won’t be Sunday 7th March 2021.

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If you are feeling suicidal or feel that you want to hurt yourself, please please please seek help immediately: List_of_suicide_crisis_lines You are not alone, you are loved, you are worthy of life <3