Just got a call from Dr. Wallick. The test results from the past two weeks have taken my already bad situation and given it an even greater sense of urgency. It looks as though the increase in my durability and regenerative capabilities, is not tied directly to my suicide attempts. While the progression of my condition slowed slightly during the weeks where I avoided death, the more significant percentage of the increase appears to be continuous and shows no signs of tapering off. So even if I stopped attempting suicide and waited for Doc Wallick to figure out what the fuck is going on, I'd still be getting stronger with each passing day, being washed further and further out to sea.
I don't know if I'm in shock or what, but intellectually I keep thinking that this should frighten me more than it does, or make me angry. What's weird is that in a sick kind of way I'm relieved by this news. At least my prior unsuccessful attempts haven't made a huge impact on my potential for success. Not to mention I can finally going back to doing something. Even if I don't happen to hit upon the suicide superfecta that does the trick, at least I'm not sitting on my ass too paranoid to move for fear of destroying my chances. While it may have been nice to take a break from the physical pain for a while, the past two weeks of sleepless nights and introspection were starting to take their toll on my sanity. Now I feel like I can get back to it, start taking charge again. Yeah, its bullshit and I feel like I'm further away than ever, but I'm going to scratch and claw and bite every inch, every step. I refuse to let this fucking thing beat me. Not a goddamn chance. I'm not going to mope about lamenting the irony of my existence, I'm going to act. That's exactly what I need right now, is some action.
Less Hamlet, more fucking MacBeth...
...which reminds me. I have a wallet to return.