It’s a bizarre sensation, not feeling in the least amount suicidal at all and not wanting to be alive any longer
All is safe. Take “We know Steve has been suicidal in the past” out of the mix, take “We know Steve has bipolar” freed from the equation, and you’re left with an indifferent melancholy.
And, please, no 10-40s. I’m merely sharing this specific sensation as I’ve felt thricely this way in my life. Perhaps this resonates with others. Academic curiosity.
It’s weird, isn’t it? I got the feeling that continuing to be alive is so tedious and destined to be anticimatic… It’s l8ke, “Well, that’s enough of that. What’s next?”
It pains me to clarify THIS IS NOT SUICIDAL IDEATION.
As my pal Brenda said, it’s going to need to be something magical.