when my cope reserves run dry and my intrusive thoughts begin churning up suicidal ideations, i sigh and tell them, “OK you know what, fuck you, if you’re so smart do it yourself” and my last act of will is to lie down in bed.

if these self-destructive impulses really wanted to, they could take control and kill me, but they don’t. because they can’t. because they’re weak. they’re fucking cowards. And they’re lazy.

Eventually I sleep.

And when I wake up, I usually don’t feel as bad.