So, I could think of dying?

 

I woke up the other day,

counting the number of pills,

in my medicine cabinet,

that'd take till I could finally stop counting.

I lay there,

letting that thought complete,

take its course,

and die just as it was- a thought.

Lucky for me,

I had a friend,

a loving husband,

who listened without judgment,

acknowledged it was a thought- scary, yet a thought,

humans tend to have, in their weakest moments.

I found myself breaking down,

crying in the shower,

Not because I could have thoughts as scary,

But, I could be so selfish.

I let myself sort my thoughts,

And forgive,

Forgive myself for discounting my existence,

for tying my worth to an industry, a job, a title;

And, I came to an open-ended conclusion,

that, my life is more than my work;

I might need to learn, re-learn, and learn some more,

until I come to an acceptance that,

the void death leaves behind,

is incomparable to a year or two or three of unemployment, financial insecurity, and much more.