4/31/22, 1:30am: I had a detailed, long, vivid dream for the first time in a very very long time; it felt like a movie, kinda.  Something about humanity in a large spaceship at the end of the world as each major streaming service ends one by one?  I died in the dream; after Netflix, the last one standing, ended, it blew up a border that was engraved on the floor of the spaceship, where I was standing—the border was around me.  Because it was gone, the opening was exposed, and a bunch of gray, toxic gas came in, which I inhaled and basically got killed by.  After I died, it cut to a newsfeed of some CEO (of Netflix?) saying that nobody told <i>him</i> about the danger of toxic gas and somebody should probably get on that.  That’s when I woke up.
The dream also featured these cuts to this streaming show about a boy in a cabin with his doctor & parents & the people they help; there was the normal show and a prequel origin story of him as a little kid, he’s this sandy-haired fella and both featured a kid with long black hair as his foil.
<i>Anyway to the point</i>: I’m 90% sure this ie because of the new drug they just put me on yesterday, for bipolar disorder, which is called Lat., as I haven’t had a dreaming experience like this in <i>forever</i>.  I’ll try to remember to tell the psychiatrist about it later.  Also, I don’t really want to go back to sleep again because I don’t want to die in the dream again, that was not fun.  Which leads me to a question:
Q: If dying in a dream was so bad that I don’t want to go back to sleep, when <i>why</i> do I want to die IRL as if that’s no big deal?
A: Because I don’t want life.  Not because I particularly want death, because that scares me a lot, but because the alternative—living on and suffering in every aspect—will be awful.  So it’s better to end it now because I have a slow, miserable death.
[Author’s note: when writing this, I pictured the person asking the questions (“Q”) as an ideal version of me, a better version.  Where the one answering the questions (“A”) is me as I am.]
Q: Yes, living on will be arduous and painful.  But won’t dying be more painful?  Because there is the initial moment of killing yourself, and then the enormous question of what comes after that, which could be good, bad, neutral, etc.
A: I know dying will probably be painful to perform—as much as I wish I could press the button and die right away [author’s note: at the time, when I wanted to kill myself, I used the phrase that I wanted to “press the button”.  That is to say, if there was a button in front of me that, upon pressing it, would end my life, I wanted very badly to press it], the human body is a resilient motherfucker, and it’s not that easy.  I am scared of the “after” question too—whether hell exists, because if so I’m trading brief torture on Earth for an eternity of it, or if there is just nothing, and I doubt I’m going there.
Q: So it sounds like you’re at a crossroads or a conundrum of sorts?  Living is painful, but so is dying and the afterlife.  Right?
A: Yeah.  Both are too painful to imagine myself taking part in.  But I guess I’m at a point where the horrors of life are so bad that I’m willing to risk the latter being awful anyway, if only just to get out of my wretched existence.
Q: So the idea of only having one life, one shot, and throwing it away/forfeiting it yourself—<i>that</i> isn’t enough to stop you?
A: I guess not.  I have convinced myself of the idea of reincarnation to alleviate that idea, sure.  But if my “one shot” is going to be one of slow torture, why would anyone want to keep going.  <i>I don’t.</i>
[Author’s Note: Around this point, I wrote on the side of my notebook, “Is if better to let the darkness take me, or to old on as long as a sliver, fragment, iota of light exists in my life?”]
Q: Then what <i>would</i> you need in order to stay and take your shot?  What can convince you to live, if anything?
A: Some way of alleviating the stuff that is going to ruin & doom me.  A home.  Financial wellness.  The ability to slowly work again even in some minor capacity.  Friends who come to help me with actions instead of just words [author’s note: I did have friends who were helping me at this time, but I was not able to see the extent of the things they gave me].  Someone in the family or family friends who believes me about what mom did and/or about mom & dad’s abuse.  <i>Inner & outer peace.</i>
Q: Well, E’s searching for housing.  Unemployment could come in, and you’ll get disability if you get a diagnosis on May 10th.  The [REDACTED] article can be a good way to see if you can freelance a <i>tiny</i> bit while you’re sick, as will your freelance work queue.  Your friends love you and want you to stick around—even if those around Mom & Dad never believe you, your real friends always will.  The storm is long & hard, but light is poking slightly through the clouds even as the flood pours.  <i>Is that enough for you or not?</i>
A: . . . I mean. . . All of those things, aside from the friend point, are maybe things.  They’re questions.  And the answers to those questions could be, “Sorry, we can’t help you.” If that happens, then it’s like I’ve been saying, a hopeless & torturous life.
Q: The housing <i>will</i> happen for sure at least.  So that’s one thing you won’t need to fret over.  Financial wellness will take time, but I can see it happening—especially with a diagnosis, when you can get accommodations at future jobs, like writing stuff down to remember it.  The [REDACTED] article you can do in the kitchen, now that Mom is gone, which will definitely help you focus—add the Repeat Alarm app on your phone, along with a step-by-step process to completion, and you’d be golden.  If it doesn’t happen, then it doesn’t happen.  But would you rather try to see it happen and fight for a better life, or not be here to see and fight at all?
A: . . .
A: I don’t want to go.  But I don’t want this life anymore.
Q: If even <i>some</i> of you wants to stay, that’s reason enough to stick around now, isn’t it?
A: But it’ll be so fucking hard.
Q: When hasn’t it been?!
A: I want to stop fighting so much.  I want peace.
Q: You’ll get it.  Not immediately.  But I really think you’ll get it.  And that those who care for you on Norbez, and even the furry community & friends on your alt, won’t just watch you drown from it all.  There are people in your life who will do everything they can to pull you up, just like you’ve done for others.  And there will be peace in the small moments: of sitting & working quietly with Eliana at your new place, of finally getting that restraining order against your parents, of being with your friends and playing Garlic Phone, of <i>being & being & being.</i>.  I want you to be here for that.  Do you?
A: . . . Um. . . Yeah.  I mean, if I went now, there’s so much I’d miss out on, from people I care about.  The people I love and hold close to me.  I want to see those things, I guess.  But I feel that’s not a good enough or big enough reason to stay.
Q: It is.  It’s enough.  Stay because you want to see.  You can stay living for the same reasons you put on an interesting-sounding movie: “Well, I might as well find out where this goes.”  Might as well see.  Just because you can.
A: If feels bitter to do that.  Sweet but very bitter aftertaste.
Q: That’s because you’re having a lot of difficulties.  Give it time.  The flavor will change.  The bitter may not go away for good, but it won’t be this bad forever.  I know you have these big ambitions, so seeing life tread all over your basic needs & your dreams sucks a lot.  But you’ll have success—sometimes in small shit, some times in large shit, but <i>some times</i>.  You’re not plummeting downwards anytime soon.  Your sickness and that house with Mom & Dad may feel like the end of you, but it won’t be the end.  There are “after”s.  “And then”s.  That’s life’s biggest feature: stuff comes next.  And you’ll have another chapter.
A: I hope so.
Q: I know so.  You’ve worked so hard to get out with Eliana—something <i>is</i> coming next.  Might as well find out where that goes, right?
A: Yeah.  I suppose. 
Q: <i>I KNOW you don’t want to give up the scraps of life’s hopes, to gamble with the cosmos in death.</i>  Better to keep the poker hand you’re dealt than move to an unknown game.  It may be a shit hand now.  But that’s the thing about life: you get <i>new</i> hands, new cards.  You don’t keep the same High 2 forever.  Sometimes you can get a Three Of A Kind or a Full House.  But you won’t always be in a losing game.
A: That’s true.  And the cosmic gamble is riskier than that, for sure.  But now what?  Where so I go?
Q: Back to your war plans.  Reevaluate your strategy, figure out your angle for finding better tomorrows in the small ways you can.  You’re not at 100%, but I <i>know</i> you, dude.  As long as you’re not at 0%, you’re <i>gonna</i> keep doing this shit somehow, somewhere!  So up your game plan.  Keep making stuff.  When you’re better, growth on your furry alt will still be waiting, at the <i>very least</i>.  That’s t least some stuff taken care of, and a way to be fulfilled & happy in ways you were before, even if it’s while you find another job or something.  But you’re a tactical fella.  You’ll plan something cool, and keep making things.  I know it.
A: Thanks.  At least <i>someone</i> believes in me, haha.
Q: Me and all your friends.  People are cheering for you.  Don’t tune that out.  Ok?
A: Ok.  I’ll try.
Q: Good.  That’s enough.  Keep trying.  Keep living & being.  You’ll live.
A: Thanks.
Q: You’re welcome.  I & so many others love you.
A: . . . Ok.  I’ll try to remember that.
(fin)