When I Say You Make Me Happy, I Mean It.
I thought about death again today.
In amongst the alcohol I consumed that evening, the realization that everything is temporary, paired with the unavoidable negative thoughts running through my mind, plaguing my sleep, infecting every cell in my body... I could barely look through the clouded judgements to see the one person who makes me feel happy and alive these days.
I feel so selfish for thinking these things sometimes. It's at if I have no regard for how my family might feel, or my dog for that matter, if I one day succeeded in any kind of attempt at death when my mind changes on those nights. It isn't a regular thing, but it could be avoided, I suppose.
It might be selfish, but it's an intriguing thought, when you're drunk and depressed.