To say I'm going through something would be an understatement. A person can only take so much yet here I am somehow still taking more. My frontal lobe is damaged beyond repair. In result I have a difficulty choosing my words in ways that I wish. My judgment is not always correct. My emotions are nearly unmanageable. I feel myself sinking and I can't do a single thing to stop it.
Ending my life is my fall back plan. It always has been. Suicide is always an option. I can't help but consider it. It plagues my thoughts and the whispers in my head just get louder. Many think suicide is a selfish act. I happen to not. And let's not start an argument about it.
But I am being selfish. Last night I laid in bed and thought everything over. I thought about Alexis growing up without me. I thought about her being raised in a home without my influence. Then it all hit me. It isn't that my beautiful little girl could not grow up into a marvelous, strong woman without me. She would be just fine. It is that I can't stand the thought of missing a thing. Not one smile, one hug, one kiss. I can't miss one milestone, one event. I have to live not because I will bring her joy, but because that's what she brings me.
I'm selfishly soaking up the love my daughter gives me. I'm supposed to protect her. Love her. Help her. Save her from every and any harm. But she's the one saving me.
