This one is for all those who say I should have persevere. To all who say it is not that bad. I would overact. Be stupid.
This is to all who challenge my decision and don´t understand.
This letter is for you.
My life is like a dark cloud, capturing me. Sometimes the cloud let me see. See what could have been. See what really is. Until I am again trapped into it. Locked away. Shielded. Captured with yourself. Captured with your own thoughts and feelings. Captured without knowing how to ever escape. A cloud stealing every light. Every hope. The air to breathe. The will to live. The strenght to fight.
I had two options.
First: Give up.
The training. The job. Try something new. A new start with the help of medicine and therapy. With the hope that it will somehow go on. That the joy will come back. And I can recover my life. Continue the fight. And maybe even win. A difficult way. Without knowing if it leads to success. And I knew that this way would be hard. But it´s a way where hope still matters somehow.
And second: Give up.
Simply give up. Let go. Keep the job and hope that this fucking life finally ends. That a racer drives to fast around the corner and kills me. A lunatic with a gun who chooes me as the victim. An illness taking my life. Can not just somebody come and let this end? Please?
A life at abyss.
More risks every day. Far too close at the departure platform. Where is the kick letting me fall onto it? Ignoring traffic lights. Bridges are now possibilities. Balance on razor´s edge. With the fucking damn wish to fall down.
I had the choice. Between life and death. And I choosed life! And do you know what the crackbrained is? This choice was really hard to make! Because death would often be the easier way. I did not made this choice airy. I have thought about it really long. Was awake all night. Day a day. Night and night. And the wish that it´ll finally end was always there. And simultaneously there was the wish for life. People I wanted to see growing older. People I could not dissappoint. Books standing unread in my shelves. Ideas in my head that I had not the time to fulfill.
I want to live.
And this is why I gave up.
But I gave up something I could live with. I can get over this. I can make it through this. By living. By fighting.
I am not weak, because I stopped fighting for something what would have killed me.
I am not weak.
I am strong.
Because I decided to live and fight, although I wanted to die. This fight is so hard. It takes a lot of strenght, courage, bravery and energy to fight. And there are always those days when I don´t know how long I will stand this. Days where I am longing for death. Days where death is like the emergency exit. But I am not taking this exit. I go on, away from this door and fighting through the jungle of life. Through all those thornes, the stining-nettle, the wasps and hornet. I´m fighting on and on, although it hurts me. Although it hurts so bad.
I fight on.