Some days I don't want to live anymore. Some days I wish I could just end it all so that I will no longer have to deal with this pain. Some days I want to die. In a tragic way. Just quick and easy. No suffering. Then I realize that probably no one would miss me. And that hurts.
You're supposed to be so strong. You have so much potential wasting away. Well, what if I were no longer here? I wouldn't have to deal with those pressures anymore.
Every day getting out of bed is a struggle. Every day I know that I will suffer. Every single day.
I have thought of many ways that I could end it all. I have thought of countless ways to no longer be here.
But then I think, "Do I really want to die? Then what...?"
The uncertainty of death is the only thing that keeps me alive I think. The final act of selfishness of the selfless soul...
If only I cared about myself as much as I do others. It's embarrassing to admit that suicide was a consideration when things were too much to handle.
I need help.
Never ask for it though.
No one would believe you anyhow. They'd just send you to church in front of people who only have a book to save you... but no plan. Just "pray" they say. And then what? Will I magically be saved from myself? Nope. I tried it all. I talked it out. I tried it all. I prayed. Nothing happened. What do you do when God stops listening? Nobody is listening.
I just feel so alone. And I just want someone to be around me. And they aren't.
And I end up settling for just any old body because I don't want to be alone. And I hate myself after I finally realize I don't want that near me so I make them leave.
And it hurts. My body is trying to tell me that I'm doped up too much. But I never listen.