Suicidal ideation is my security blanket.Â It’s always there for me, to comfort me, when I have no one else.
I am supposed to be strong for my kids, for my mother, for my job.Â No one respects the weak and unbalanced.Â I am a show, a puppet.Â I go through this life looking for happiness yet never finding it, then pretending I’m fine, when I am not.
If I disappeared off the face of the earth, it wouldn’t matter.Â My kids would grieve and miss me, I know.Â My mother might even be upset.Â Otherwise, I’ve made no mark in this world so that my non-existence would even matter.
I’m a blip on the radar that cannot be seen or acknowledged.Â No one cares about me, yet I care too much about others.
I hate my life and everything about it.
I want to die today, but I may not want to tomorrow.Â However, suicide is ALWAYS on my mind to comfort me and give me an “out”.
No one understands how I feel.Â No one understands the pain I suffer daily. They think the meds I take to control my bipolar and personality disorder are supposed to be magical pills that make me whole and happy.Â They don’t understand that those are not cure-alls.
Nothing goes right in my life. I’ve lost my faith in God because he’s never been a help to me.Â Everytime I pray for my pain to end it only gets worse, so I’ve stopped praying.Â Sometimes I think I am God’s joke on this planet to torture and toy with.
I want to die.Â I want to no longer exist.Â I no longer want to go through the motions of a life I don’t enjoy.
I want to die.