“These days, suicide sucks my cock. It wants me to stay in bed but I don’t. I set myself unachievable goals and dare myself to reach them”.
I have a fantastic life. I get to travel the world, do exciting things, meet brilliant people and have access to places and events that money can’t buy. I’ve been featured in magazines and nominated for awards, I’ve partied with rock stars and dined with my heroes. Life is fun, life is exciting, life is good. And I regularly think about killing myself.
Since I was a teenager, I’ve been riddled with these dark thoughts about doing myself in. I can’t talk about any specific mental illness as I’m not sure what I have. I’ve never spoken to a doctor about it so I’ve never been diagnosed and I’ve never taken anything for it save self-medication with a lot of socially-acceptable lubricants. But I have something. I have suicide. And it sucks.