Should I tho? Should I?

I should be okay right now, right? Dare I even say happy?

Maybe happy isn't the right word, perhaps content is the better way to describe it. Content at where I'm at right now. Happy with the things I achieved so far. Content and proud. It's kinda strange tho. The moment I'm confined between the four walls of my room, my mind will have a mind of its own. Memories and thoughts are living their own life as if they've been alive for a decade. Nights are the worst. Nights spend worrying about tomorrow and worrying if I ever am whole again. Worrying if there is any chance of getting that lost part of myself back.

I'm still fighting with myself. Still contemplating if I still want to be alive. Everything seems futile. The things I used to want, the goals I've set for myself, it all doesn't matter. I've fought hard to get where I'm at, but lately, I wonder why. I'm not happy. I smile, but the smile doesn't reach my eyes. I don't feel happy, but I don't feel unhappy either. I just feel like crap. Why do I even bother? I'm going from prison to prison. First I was a prisoner in my mind, then my body, and now the system. The system isn't working for me. It's not working cos they can't fit my situation in a box. It simply doesn't exist. The system wasn't built for me, but for "normal" people with common problems. I've lost faith in people along the way, lost faith in my Religion and faith in general.

Yes, things are going well. From an academic view, things are going great even. Now that I'm free for a couple of days, it has given me time to stand still and look back. I don't think my studies bring me happiness anymore. Again, I want to crawl back into my own space and let the darkness consume me. I know this feeling might be egged on because of the hormones cos it's almost that time of the month. On the other hand, I know this darkness comes and goes as it pleases. Ever since I've gotten sick, the constant struggle of fighting with myself to want to stay alive is hard. It feels like I'm fighting a war with myself. I don't think I'm afraid of dying. I think I'm afraid of giving up cos when that happens, things will go to shit real quick. Especially combined with my impulsiveness. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I did it. Would I feel relieved? I don't think so cos dead people can't feel dick. Sometimes I wonder how I would do it. Would I have the balls to do it?

*Trigger warning*

Do I dare to slash my wrist? I know I wouldn't slash it horizontally but vertically. Supposedly it should be quicker that way. If I'm planning on taking my own life it needs to be quick. No unnecessary time is lost on dying in agony. I don't want to play the waiting game until I'll die or be unconscious.
Or would I just die of alcohol poising? Keep drinking until I black out leading to me never waking up? Jumping in front of a train would be too public. If I decide to take my life, j would do it in private. I don't need the prying eyes on me. Besides, the survival rate is way too high so never mind. I don't want to live out my life being incapacitated and eating meals through a straw. Maybe go on the dark web and ask if someone wants to murder me? Nah, too many unknown factors. Slashing my wrists and knees would be my go-to. That or taking too many pills and alcohol.

For now, weed will have to do. Weed and working out. The holidays are coming soon so I'll make sure I'm medicated when dealing with those people.