mental anguish

I feel like I have a terminal illness except it doesn’t kill you. That truly is what depression is like. An illness that takes your life away from you without killing you. The only way to end it is by you taking your life.
These are the thoughts I have been pondering for the past half hour. I just feel like I am sick but physically I am well. I am on disability for an illness that no one can see or hear. I hate this suffering every day. I feel so worthless as a human being.
My therapist thought I had my day of death in the fall. She couldn’t be more wrong. I just set a date because I just can’t go on anymore. Does it mean that I will go through with my plans? I don’t know. If the day was tomorrow, you bet I would. I feel cheated that I have to wait it out until this day. I am not going to mention it to anyone because I don’t want to be stopped.
I always plan my death. It helps to calm me down. Imagining how the knife will feel or a rope around my neck. That is gory I know but when you are in so much pain you can’t imagine happy thoughts to save you. It just doesn’t work that way. I feel suicidal so I am going to think of suicidal things. It helps to have options out there. That is all that I am doing. Giving myself options on how to die and break free of this awful cycle of being ok and being six feet under.