Sixteen days left until we need to be out of our house, and the prospects of successfully finding a place to live is bleak. So what will happen on the last day of September? Maybe this was the Omega I started to write about in June.
The clock continues to tick away, along with it our hopes that we will have a roof over our head. My mental health and cognitive ability is worsening with each tick tock.
One of the things all of the mental health professionals in my life are concerned with is if I have a plan, I have always told them if I were to end my life it would be impulsive. Since June I have been working on my Funeral Playlist, songs I want played at my funeral so I can speak to everyone after I am gone. My plan was once my Playlist was completed if things were not better than I would move on.
My therapist pointed out that my funeral would last forever with how many songs I have, so now I am going through and having songs I want played at my funeral and the rest to be given to anyone who attends. My plan depends on which comes first completing Playlist or when September ends and we have no where to live. If I am still being suffocated and can’t handle things than that is how I will decide if my Omega has come.
I took out a larger life insurance policy just to be safe. I try my best to focus on the positive light of The Random Artist and the future it may bring. I am so close to complete the small finishing touches and tasks to make it go live, but I can’t it’s too much. I cannot process or complete even the easiest tasks of just living, trying to connect everything to make my delusional dream a reality seems impossible.
I don’t have much left in me, and I am sorry for my weakness. Let this be documentation for future reference that I fought and tried until I couldn’t anymore, in hopes people will find understanding, or let this be documentation for future reference that I fought and made everything work.