Praying for death again. This happens when my life becomes shittier than usual.
My early AA training brought me back to some simple prayer each night. I say the Lord's Prayer. And AA's third step prayer. Plus a little prayer of my own: "I love You, I thank You, I trust You." But I can't really trust anybody. Situations occur in which it would seem provident to trust. Most often, though, not.
In AA I found a way to quiet "the committee" in my head: I simply repeat prayer over and over and over to drown out "the committee." It worked great and my life improved considerably, mostly because I wasn't drinking. I remember sitting in AA meetings and talking about when I hit bottom, I prayed for death. It wasn't supposed to happen anymore.
Unfortunately, my mother's needs destroyed the life I had built in AA and turned me back into a resentful animal. It was very difficult to care for her because she didn't do much to care for me as a child. I still stay sober through prayer, but my life has deteriorated considerably. To be blunt, I want out. I can't off myself until after November or my life insurance won't pay face value, only refund premiums. So when it gets this bad, I ask to be taken, repeatedly. Again, this repetition drowns out other stuff.
I feel obligated to no one but Charlie. I would love to find a good home for him before I die. But if I die in my sleep or of a heart attack or whatever, I won't have any say over what happens to Charlie. I figure if I trust the Lord enough to take me, then I trust Him to take care of Charlie. I also don't care if my ultimate destination is hell. I'm already living there.
If I survive past November, then I can make arrangements for Charlie before I punch out.
My life is shit and has been shit for so long that I'm getting used to the taste of shit sandwiches. I'm tired of busting my ass to make ends meet. I sink further and further into debt because my income is fixed, but all other costs are rising. I can find no employment that I'm suited to. Fuck, I'm a physical wreck. 64 years old, half blind, serious mental health issues, serious digestive tract issues, serious arthritis, and, thanks to my idiocy, serious kidney disease. In fact, all of my health problems are self-inflicted. It's obvious I hate myself, hurting myself repeatedly.
I just can't handle life on these terms. When I was working in landscape, I was one of the happiest people on earth. I loved the hard labor. It was all part of the new life I had built in AA.
That life is gone now, shattered into a million pieces. I hang on, but it just gets worse and worse. If I survive into old age, I have no children to take care of me. My family is dead. And if there is half a chance of seeing them again in an afterlife, I'll go for it. As dysfunctional as my family was, I miss them terribly. Not a day goes by that I don't shed tears for them.
So, I'll continue to pray for death. It's the only option I have left. And if it gets much worse, fuck the life insurance and I'll check out. I don't need an obituary or funeral or showing of any kind. Just cremate me and toss the ashes. My depression deepens and won't let up. And my psychiatrist, the one person I felt bonded to concerning my mental illness, is retiring.
Please, Mr. Death, visit me.