Legit my only wish is not to die alone. But, unsurprisingly, it's difficult to find someone who will watch you kill yourself. All I want is for someone to hold my hand while I go. I know I can't do that to anyone. It just seems so unfair. Everyone else gets to die surrounded by their friends and family. If it was any organ besides my brain that was killing me, I wouldn't have to do it alone. But since it is in my brain, because they can't see it, because they don't feel it, they won't let me go. They still think it is my choice. What they don't understand is I don't decide why, or how, or to get better. The only thing I have control over is when, and doing it now would be kinder for everyone. You let your dog go when he's sick. Why don't you understand that it's cruel to make me stay, too?
Poem
Parts of this account have been fictionalized due to the author's lack of knowledge of certain intimate details. SU/MH trigs, graphic, etc. Untitled For C Once upon a time, there was a little girl who loved everyone. She grew up running barefoot on the grass, lifting her face up to the sun and climbing trees to get closer to that glorious blue sky. If her mother was going to squish a bug, the girl caught it and set it free, because she believed even the smallest life is worth something. She was good, and all the world loved her back. As she got older, little fires began to spark inside her. She was passionate about animals, especially her dogs. She began drawing, painting, taking photographs. She traveled to Thailand and Haiti to work in orphanages and share her love of art. She decided to become a teacher. After a while, the young woman got married and moved back home to stay with her mother after her parents' divorce. She got a job teaching art. IN the s...
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