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[TW: suicide]

I used to work on a cruise ship 20 years ago. They say I fell down three floors on a metal staircase below deck. I woke up for an instant because the pain of changing altitude in a small plane was horrific. Permanent brain damage. Two hematoma the size of baseballs on my frontal lobe. These people said they were my parents. I never saw my face. I can't remember anything until I was in my parents' new place in S.F. Like 20 days after the airplane ride.
I am now a worthless waste of space. I can't get dressed. It takes hours. I can't organize. I can't remember words. I get lost driving every single day. I have ZERO friends. Why do I have to be here? Life will just get worse. No one can understand. My mom says" oh I forget that too". Yes but your 85. I'm so tired of losing my keys 3 times a day. Forgetting where I am. That fear is terrifying. I'm done. I have been tortured enough. I had major depressive disorder before my accident. That's the only thing that stuck with me. That little voice that says" you are such a stupid loser who can't even remember what day it is".
"A Waste of space". "No one gives a s%$@ about loser". "So die my die" Every day I hear it in my head over and over. It's right. I shouldn't be taking up space where a normal person should be. Why. Last time I tried to end it. I had it. Then the cleaning lady found me. I had wrapped duct tape over my head & face the tied plastic bags with duck tape.