Tag Archives: suicide

Red and a Play

So, I’m a redhead now…

And I wrote a play that’s going to have a performance in NYC!!!

I have an amazing cast! And my better half is co-directing with me! It’s a dream come true honestly and I can’t believe so many of my friends, family, and coworkers are going to be joining me on my special night. I’m the luckiest duck. My mind is blown. ❤️

<<<
e never been so happy and nervous and grateful and excities…

Your friend,

Lourdi.

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Changes in a year

Exactly one year ago today I wrote out my suicide note. Most of my belongings had assigned future homes and I was begging everyone not to hate me for doing it. 

Loneliness is a fucking bitch. Heartache is crippling. Mental health is a serious matter. 

It’s been a year. 

My life is wonderful. There are some setbacks, but we just go with the flow. I’m happy. I’m madly in love. I’m humbled. I’m alive. 

I’m very thankful. 

A lot has happened in a year. In this year. I’m happy I stuck around to see it through. 

Your friend, 

Lourdi. 

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Ch-ch-ch-changes 

Once you’ve written your final goodbye…

Once your best friend tells you : ‘you go, I go’…

Once your bother won’t let go of you while your crying because he understands he’s the only thing keeping you grounded…

Once you realize it’ll never be the same…

Then what?

  
Your friend, lourdi. 

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A little secret 

the reason why I always have a character that either tries to kill themself or successfully does so is because I hope that’ll be enough for me. 
As I get older, it’s getting harder to just create a new world to escape this one. I have too many responsibilities in this one. Too many bills to pay and too many people to disappoint. I used to just write and it’d make it all better but it’s a little harder than that. So in my 20s I started creating characters that were very simular to me. They’d have my struggles and sense of humor. My past and whatever else. I’d make them dark but lovable. Missable. Good people with damaged hearts. And I’d make you root for them and make it seem like everything was going to be ok…and then I’d kill them. I’d fall in love with them and hope that by killing them I’d be killing just a piece of me and that would be enough. I would never have to physically hurt myself bc losing them was enough. And it worked for a while. In my 20s. It got me through my twenties. But now I’m 31 and these feelings are right at the surface and I’m writing a story and the character is me and I just can’t hurt him. I can’t kill him. He needs a happy ending but the two of us can’t both survive. And that’s what I’m struggling with. 

  

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