I feel so odd today.

Recently, I was talking about how to take yourself out of the game of life with some dignity. How to know when to do it. How to do it. That sad stuff.

Found out my pop had just tried it.

It's weird talking about it. Writing about it. Thinking about it. Easier to do in that; It's someone else, maybe someday, I see it in movies-kinda way...

My dad had been doing just what I thought I'd do if I had to; Save up sleeping pills for that rainy day.

He swallowed them. Then he threw up.

Still...

It's like my dad has crossed a line or stepped through some door, It's all different now, in my head. How am I suppose to feel? I always felt for those who did themselves in, never judged, because we don't know what they are truly going through.

I hate the ones that have to leverage the leap. The ones that have to take others out before they can themselves.

I know I don't want to ever leave a mess for others.