It is at my throat
The clawing; the calling

I feel it pulling at me. Pushing me closer and closer to the end. It could also be the beginning; they often feel the same way. 

It is pulling me to death. To the end.

My fear of death is causing me to become numb to the forces of change. Can I let go? If I let go here would that not be admitting defeat? It feels like I’m admitting that I am enough to continue on in this life.

This is a truth suitable for change. The truth. My own arrogance and grasps on life are too strong and rarely allow easy change.

This is not life in the sense of being alive, but rather life as we live it. The thing we do, the way we think, the people that we are around. All of this dies when I change.

My whole way of living changes
Who and what I believe in
What I do and how I act
The things I like
My dreams
Desires
Hopes

I guess I have never been able to answer the questions of Who I Am apart from these things listed above. That has been the goal; the pursuit. Who am I?

I am starting to think that you can only change these things by letting go of them. Letting them die off.

Finding myself through killing myself