I feel forever alone. I have family, friends, a husband, a beautiful baby girl, a job, everything I guess. But I feel that no one on this earth can ever understand me, our can stand me. What I feel and what I think are simply too complicated and perhaps annoying to the “normal” people. Whoever they are, I envy them. I wish I didn’t have to feel lonely. I wish I didn’t have to think about hanging myself just to feel better; like I have control over my life. Which is ironic. But everytime I am in a rut, all I want to do is kill myself. I dream about it, I think about, and just tonight I actually wanted to do it and I had the rope in sight already. And it felt so good having that option just to ease my pain and rid myself of hate for myself and yet felt so wrong for even thinking about leaving my poor baby alone to live in a cruel world without a mother. I feel so tired and frustrated and alone. I feel that if I talk to someone about this, they’d shun me or laugh at me or think that I’m absolutely crazy for even wanting to die. Perhaps I really am crazy. Maybe I should start seeking medical help. But I couldn’t even bring myself to go to a doctor and tell her or him that I’ve thought a lot about dying. It would be too embarassing. Too embarassing to admit my weakness. To admit my selfishness. To admit that I am flawed. I hate myself more than anything else and I wish the world were just rid of me. I am sure my husband would be better off without me. I am sure he can find someone better, saner than me. Someone who’d forever be happy by his side and not have a complaint in the world. Someone who’s perfect. Which I’m not. And therefore I deserve to die. And yes sure they’d cry a little at my funeral. But they’ll get over it sooner than they think. And the pain will subside quickly. My baby won’t even know me and wouldn’t even feel the pain. Perhaps she might ask questions when she’s older but at least she didn’t have to see me buried. When will this pain end? When will I ever realize that I don’t have to die to find happiness or to end my misery? It just seems like a roller coaster ride for me every single day. One minute I’m all okay and happy and content and the next minute I feel like trash, garbage – useless and insignificant. I wish I were dead if only to rid myself of these conflicting emotions. I am sure everyone would be happier without me. I would be happier when I’m dead.