Sometimes darkness isn't something that happens to me. Sometimes it is something I choose. But at the same time, sometimes suicidal ideation isn't something I choose. Sometimes it is something that happens to me.

Which is weird, on both sides. Why would I choose the darkness, knowing how much it destroys me? Perhaps because it is comfortable. It is familiar and, please excuse the irony, safe. But what about the ideation? How could that possibly be something that happens to me, rather than something I choose? Am I just ducking the responsibility for my own thoughts and feelings and desires? Perhaps. But sometimes, despite my best efforts and even my own desires, I just want to die. It seems weird, that I could want something in spite of what I want. I know it doesn't make sense to me. But it does seem to be the case. It's happened to me before. And when it does, it usually wins. That is, it comes to overwhelm all my other wants and desires until it becomes the only thing I can think about, the only thing that matters.

I feel like this writing is not up to my usual standards. Usually words flow from me faster than my fingers can keep up, but today (and lately) the words have come slowly, sentence by sentence, wrenched out of me by the brute force of my will. I want to write; I crave the release and the clarity that comes from words. But lately I have been denied that escape.

I was just in the hospital last weekend. I felt better so they let me go. But now I feel...like maybe I should go back. Or something. I'm not as bad off as I was last weekend. But I'm swiftly approaching it. I'm less depressed but more suicidal. Or at least, I want to harm myself badly. And by badly I refer both to the intensity of the desire, and the intensity of the harm. I'm tired of this body being so wrong. I'm tired of using the women's restroom. I'm tired of having breasts that just get in the way. I'm tired of being called ma'am. I'm tired of my voice breaking the illusion on the rare occasions when I am passing as male. I'm tired of not being what I should have been.