Suicide dreams

Content warning: suicide

Waking up after suicide dreams is hard. My body is waking up but my mind is still there, in the right before mindset. My mind wakes up questioning why I’m still alive, what went wrong.

My suicide dreams are Inception-like. Each death slides me into another life where I’m wanting to die, like all this body and mind knows is death or the quest for death.

Back before heroin was kicked downhill to become my second most deadly compulsion, I used to have using dreams. I’d wake up in the moment after the fit had slipped out of my vein, wearing all the guilt and shame of busting. Those days would be hard to start but I could shake it off (after checking my trackmarks, just to be certain.)

Waking up from suicide dreams takes days. I’ll walk around today wondering what is real. I’ll zone out, distracted by my breath or heartbeat. If I’m lucky enough to not have more suicide dreams tonight, then I’ll wake up tomorrow morning still feeling like I’m second away from trying again.

Remembering that I am in control will take a few more days.

Today, right now, I am alive. Suicide dreams can’t kill me. But they suck.

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