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  November 17th, 2009 by painterofmusic

I have a funny story. I guess it’s funny to someone like me, anyway. But I had planned on dying today. And as it turns out, my wallet was stolen. The only pills I have are Tylenol, which would make me suffer a horribly painful death if I lived because they would make my liver shut down over the course of a week-ish. I could cut my wrist, but I’m afraid I would panic, call someone, and then get shipped to some nuthouse. But this wasn’t the funny part…

…I’m in college, and I’ve spent $7,000 in student loans on this semester alone. I’ve gotten myself into a debt I can never repay, and I can’t drop out of college. If I do, I’ll be forced to go back to the hell hole I escaped from, and I can’t go through that again. But I can’t stay here and continue to rack up a debt. Now, don’t think that I’m killing myself over something as pitiful as money, because that’s only a fraction of my life at the moment. It’s just… I have $2.50 in my pocket. I can buy two or three bottles of cheap aspirin with that. It cost me $7,000 to destroy my life beyond repair, but only $2.50 to end my life. Isn’t that funny? I’m just not laughing too much these days…

A lot of people have come to this site, posted a sad story, and then got help to live. I wish I could say I would be one of those people, but it looks like I’m just going to be a statistic. I can’t even say what’s wrong with my life, really. I know, and I think about the problems all the time, but it’s just really hard to talk when you want to kill yourself. It’s even harder to write when your hands are shaking. But what would I even say? “Yes, I want to die.” How would that ever come up in conversation? What would happen? I once got a girl on yahoo instant messenger who misunderstood what I was saying, and she said, “So I was what, your shit bag?!” And I wasn’t even talking to her in person. How could I ever talk to my friends?

A few months ago, I posted stories on here. And someone at my school reached out to me. He saved my life in every way I could be saved. But he’s gone. The ironic part is, it’s like the last four years of my life never happened. When I was a senior in high school, I wanted nothing more but to be a freshman again, when my best friends were there and I was somewhat happy. I hated home and the things that were happening there, but I felt like I could make it. Now, we’re all in college together, and it’s like freshman year in high school all over again. That’s what I wanted, right? I got exactly what I wanted, and now I’m paying for it. And this guy… I don’t want to tell him anything. It’s like we’re only friends when something bad happened to me, and I don’t want him to be my trash can, just like something I can throw my problems into at the end of the day. I love him, and I don’t want to bring him down like before. I don’t want to bring any of my friends down. I have to fight alone, but I can’t do it anymore. They’re all going to hate me for leaving them with unanswered questions. I don’t want to do this to them, but I can’t keep doing this to myself, either. They’ll move on, and they’ll all be a lot better off without me to drag them down. Until they realize how much better off they are, I hope they forgive me. My son is better off without me, and I think he’ll understand why someday, too.

This friend of mine… He once told me that only on the darkest of nights are the stars most visible. I looked, and I couldn’t even find a shimmer. I thought I saw one, but it was an illusion. My eyes playing tricks on me… So here I go…

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