I am concerned that I can no longer imagine a future for myself. I sleep 8 (or 12) hours a day, and I wish it were 20. And every time I wake up, I am very, very sad.
I thought about killing myself today for what must be the thousandth time. It does not make sense that my brain would choose death as the only remedy for pain, when there are so many other things that can be changed. And yet my brain returns to its deadly, depressing litany. Is it, finally, time to die?
There was to be more, but I am unable to continue.