Beneath the Earth

I don't remember.

That's all I could think of over and over again as I stared at the sickly white cieling of my bedroom.

I don't remember a thing.

Sprawled on the bed. Blankets on the floor. Pillows all around.

I don't remember why I did it except that I woke up one day and decided that this life was not worth it. My life was not worth it.

I was not worth it.

No.

That's not good enough. You don't just go to bed content one day and wake up in despair the next.

No active decision, just absolute surety.

I didn't choose to end it. I didn't decide that nothing mattered. I just knew.

One day I woke up and I knew I wasn't worth it.
At least not anymore.

But the question now is: what changed?
What changed overnight, over barely three hours of sleep. What switched off in my brain or what if something switched on?

What if realization of leading a meaningless life finally dawned upon me?

But how?

I had all these questions and it felt as if I was falling down a rabbit hole and there was no end to its darkness. No end to this ignorance

Someone once said ignorance is bliss.

They lied.