I’m going to listen to classical music and fill out this Voicing My Choices packet, which is basically “this is what I want to happen while I’m lying in a hospital bed dying because my lungs are one huge mass of cancer”. It’ll be great.
Fuck this. Fuck everything. Fuck my life decisions. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. I don’t want to die, but then I think about trying to hold onto this whole “fighting cancer” thing for even longer, and it’s already been four goddamn years and I can’t imagine doing this. I can’t imagine fighting it like someday I’ll ever beat it. It hurts too much to hope like that. I don’t want to die. Not like this. I’d rather commit suicide, but I don’t want to die alone. But I might stab myself in the face if I have to go through an entire packet of what music I want played while I die, and who I want around while I die, and whether or not they should leave the room if they’re crying while I’m dying, and what goddamn food I want to eat while I die. I guess stabbing myself in the face would take care of all the above problems though. So that might be a viable option after page three of this.