I know I wrote about this before, but I do not think I captured what I was trying to say before.
When I was first medicated I obsessed about killing myself. At that time I heard that people who fail at suicide later come to regret it. In the state I was in I never thought that would be me. In fact, I was sure it wouldn’t be me. Well, years later, it is me.
My illness is such that from time to time I believe I am died. I wonder at what point did I die? Did I succeed in killing myself? Was I not there for my sister when she needed me? This makes me cry.
Anyway, the point is, things change. I thought I would never help the world at all. I just didn’t know the future. I still don’t know the future, but now know it will be filled with chances to help others.
Nope, ended up writing the same thing in a different way. This concept is hard to explain. Sorry.