I don’t want to go into great detail and spill my life story. One thing after another goes wrong. But one day, I fell in love. And I was happy. Now, i’ve suffered from depression for years. I cut for years. I’ve been on depression and anxiety meds for years. The past 2 months have been hell. I’m heartbroken. Alone. And I don’t want to feel this anymore. I’m done. I started cutting again. I carve into my skin. In places nobody will see. My hip, mostly. I have nothing to live for. And I just want this to go away. I’ve only been trying to decide whether to take pills or slit my wrists. Maybe both.