Fat toad

I have been insanely busy, and this isnt the post I planned to write....but I want (need?) to write.

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TRIGGER for death and suicidal thoughts - a morbid peek into my head and what is rolling around in there tonight.
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*crrrrrooooaaaack*

Feels like I have a fat toad in my belly, slimey...warty...gross...heavy and poisonous. Sitting there making me feel bloated and barfy.

*Bleaah*

And making it worse is that stickie note on the calender that says I have a doctors appt on Tuesday.

I don't go to the doctors unless I think I am dying.

So that should tell you what I think my prognosis is.

I am always ready to die. Something about being suicidal my whole life makes the thought of death very appealing.

I do NOT have health insurance. I do NOT like racking up medical bills. I do NOT want to go to the doctors.

But I am out voted.

I would just silently die from what ever is going on with me and no one would ever know, just one day my family would be like HELLS BELLS our mama died!

My children are not old enough to fend for themselves yet. I can't die until they both know how to use the stove and make there own food.

My husband is good at learning things, but I don't think he would relish the idea of having to learn to be me.

So as I said I am out voted. I go to the doctor because my family needs me.

That frightens me.

Them needing me binds me here. Gives me roots. I no longer have that freedom to say heck with it I am going to attempt suicide/plan my death.

In a way they control me.

But they can't control my mind. Who, with this fat toad issue, is working over time on the theory that I am dying.

I have spent soooo much of my life "dying".

Afraid to connect and live. Really live.

afraid of what?

afraid that someone will need me and want me and miss me.

and that I will have to keep on living.

I have been working all week covering for my boss. All those extra nights commuting DID NOT HELP ONE BIT. 45 min one way  to be alone with my head.....and the fat toad. Playing Dr House and running through all the diagnosis.

Then 45 min back, to plan just how I want to die.

What I will tell my children.

What my last hours with my husband would be like.

Nope, not good at all.

I am afraid.

Afraid because I don't have insurance...and to live would mean burdening my family with bills. But the alternative is??

The toad and I will go to the doctors. I will make me tell the doc what is going on. I will tell them I have already diagnosised it as terminal, and please have hospice contact me. Then I will have to go to work that night.

45 min one way to stew over the appt.

alone.

Why does life have to be so blasted complicated?