It seems that the older I get, I realize how ridiculous everything is. Life, school, relationships.
I have an online job, I could up my hours, pay rent and binge and purge my life away.
It seems so tempting, just relapsing and figuring out a life that would allow me to do so.
It's all I want... to just binge and purge my life away. I tiny studio apartment where I could live on my own with a cat. I'd want internet so I can watch TV. Warm blankets and in a city where lots of places deliver. I'd be fine.
The worst part of this is, is that it's realistic. It would be possible for me to work an online job and completely relapse. Relapse until I'm too sick to work, then live off of disability until I wither away and die. It wouldn't take that long. It could all be over.
But I won't. As easy and nice it would be, I don't take the easy way out. As much as I want to die, I still want to live. It took my a year and a half to get to a point where I can say that, and sometimes I wish I could go back to when I was actively suicidal just so it could be over. But I know that maybe all this work will pay off. I could be living the life I want, not just the life I know I could have.