Letting it out

I finally worked up the courage to tell my mom about my misery and need to move away.  We both cried.  I’ve been avoiding this for so many years because I didn’t want to upset her.  I’ve tried everything I can possibly think of to make living here in hell bearable but eventually you reach the limit.

As I was hoping she seemed to understand.  I don’t want to leave her here alone.  The best thing for me that could happen would be for her to move with me.  I also don’t want to make her do something she doesn’t want to do just for my happiness. God, I can’t tell you how much this sucks to have to even be in this situation.

It feels partially better to know that she would give me her blessing to leave her all alone but somehow it doesn’t really console me a whole lot.

The only alternative to moving to a better place would be to go completely brain-dead.  I’m not sure I can do this though I feel I am halfway there.  Even if I could pull it off, staying brain-dead for ten or fifteen years would be incredibly difficult.  I doubt that there has ever been a case of successful voluntary brain-death for such a long-term.

We are both going to keep an open mind about this and hope that something can be worked out.  In the meantime I might give brain-death a try.

 

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