I wish I were dead

This morning I was a bit tired, didn’t really want to be at work. Nothing major, just spacing out, random thoughts. Then my mind took me on an adventure….
—-my thoughts—

God, I wish I were dead.

What? God. No. You are fine. Don’t think like that. Don’t think –

I wish I were dead.

No. No, it is okay to think that way. They are just words. They have no meaning. I don’t. I am a bit tired that is all. Thanks mind.

I keep thinking, “I wish I were dead.” I’m not going to give it power. I acknowledge the dumb thought. Time to move on.

I wish I were dead.

No. You mean…

I have the thought, “I wish I were dead.” It isn’t true. I really.. 

Everything is pointless. Everything. You have no value. Worthless. Nothing.

I wish I were dead.

Stop. It is okay to have the thought, you need to give it space, acknowledge it an move on. Okay.

I think I wish I were dead.

You think? I know.

I wish I were dead.

Fuck. Why isn’t it working? Try something else. Chant, do a mantra, say it out loud until you believe it. Chase the thought-

I wish I were dead…


“I love you. You try hard. You have worth.”


“I love you. You try hard. You have worth.”

Idiot. You are talking to yourself, you are so fucking broken you have to talk to yourself because you know it is true, you know it.

I wish I were dead.


Sing. Sing a silly song.

Jingle bells, jingle bells– 

Jesus Christ. You have to single Jingle Bells to yourself because you can’t even control your own mind. Fuck. How are you not homeless? Fuck.

I wish I’d kill myself.

It’d be so easy. 

I want to fucking die.

Yes. What would I do?

Buy a gun.

Sit down on the living room couch, a clean white wall behind me.

Insert the gun into my mouth.

Push it to the back of my throat.

Point it up at my brain stem. 

Pull the trigger.

Painting the wall with my brain matter. 

One final statement on this worthless existence.


I called my therapist, just saw her yesterday. She got me in. I’m fine. Well, me fine. Today wasn’t even that bad of a day, until my head got involved.

To reassure, I am not suicidal, nor have I ever been. I do think about it daily. My partner, doctor, psychiatrist and therapist know this.

I wish I didn’t wish I was dead.

I wish I were dead

15 thoughts on “I wish I were dead

  1. kriztal34 says:

    There’s nothing wrong with thinking about death. Thinking about death shows you have a maturity about life here; it is temporary. There is an element in your writing where you seem to almost romanticize the idea your death. What you must understand, Death is only an intermission. It is not the end but our transition into eternity. Our bodies expire; however, our souls are immortal. I have a few blogs concerning this matter one is called “exchanging temporary for permanent.” Check it out 😊

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I appreciate your perspective. Growing up in a religious and very conservative household, my God hate me for being gay. That is still part of the trauma a carry. Slowly I let go of that God, only then discovering the hatred was within me. Having taken several religion courses in college about the history of different texts, I am an absolute atheist. That is part of the reason death would be such a relief.


      1. kriztal34 says:

        My heart aches reading this as it did when I read your blog. It aches because I truly empathize with you my friend. I know what it’s like to have a broken heart. I also know our God is a whiz at rebuilding what is broken. He is a carpenter, you know. I can also assure you that he does not hate you. I know this because I love you. How could I love you when I never met you? I do. You were on my mind all day yesterday and I prayed for you and I woke up this morning thinking of you because the love in me, drives me to you. That love does not come from me. It comes from the one who knew you when you were forming in your mothers womb. The one who smiled when he saw you take your first gasp of air. The one who tugs at me to show you how much you truly are valued and loved. Psalms 34:18


        1. I’m glad religion gives you comfort. However, I pride myself on rationalism. There is little evidence of any of the books in the bible before the second century. The more you investigate the historic record, well — Religion doesn’t give me comfort. I will do this on my own. If there is a god, she is cruel. Depression is difficult, but what about bone cancer in children, and so on…


        2. kriztal34 says:

          I had a really terrible run at work these past three days. On day 3, I realized I was tired of crying. This job would either be the end of me or I will figure it out. I began to wonder if my attitude was playing a major role in all of this. So yesterday I started my day as a champion. I still had a difficult shift, I still left work late finishing up loose ends but I didn’t leave work as I have these other days feeling defeated. I know that may not seem like the biggest accomplishment but thing is I felt so confident yesterday. I had a tough run but I did a good job. I did so because I prayed for help. In my prayers God told me two things: 1. Think more of others. 2. You are a strong and smart woman; now act like it! I think sometimes it’s easy to fall in despair when all we see is what’s wrong in the world. But when we look at the beauty around us and stop and take time to appreciate what often we neglect we would find ourselves so grateful.
          “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also (Matthew 6:21)”


  2. I have struggled over what to comment here. To think about death is not uncommon. I guess it comforts me that you have shared this information with those close to you, I just hope you remember you are never alone in this world. There are those with similar struggles and have made it through. You are stronger that you think! (((HUGS)))

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Motherfuck, I… yeah. Sometimes I read powerfully relatable blogs like these and I wish I were relating so well with my flesh and blood peers, but really, what if we had bad days on the same day? So I try not to cheapen my gratitude of you online kismet kindreds by wishing I could bottle you up and carry you around selfishly, but man, I have to profess my appreciation that you exist in my bizarre world at all.


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