This is a saying usually when someone’s nerves are frayed. I’m using it differently.
Sometimes I wish I could slip quietly into the night and people could just forget about me. But that’s not the way life and death are. You slip away and people are left to grieve. And honestly, I don’t think that’s fair to either.
I am feeling passively suicidal. It would probably be actively suicidal if I didn’t care so much about my mother and her feelings.
I don’t believe this is situational. I sometimes wonder if it’s not a hint of fate. I wrote in a post a while back that I may or may not still have up about not being able to see my future like I used to. I mean not in a psychic weird supernatural way, but a regular kind of vision of where I could be. I used to see it when I was a child. It didn’t turn out the way I’d see it, but sometimes my smaller immediate futures would. I guess the normal thing to call it is intuition. I had intuition for being alive in the future, and now there isn’t anything.
And this is how I mean end of my rope. I’m not frayed, I’m just close to being no more. Or so I think.