Bad Night

Tonight I was so fucking suicidal… My friends stayed up on the computer until 2 in the morning to make sure I was alive after I took all those pills… They didn’t even know I took them. I said I put them away. But I didn’t. I don’t deserve my friends…

Someone special to me, I’m not sure if they’re ok, or if I’ll ever get to speak with them again. I also found out the guy I fell in love with is still hung up on a girl he loves, who now hates him, and he never wants to love again… I carved up my whole forearm… I feel like such a failure. And a burden. And an annoyance.

Why do I always manage to fuck everything up? I have shit to get done for school tomorrow, but I’m too fucking depressed to do it… I’m going to have to hide my arm so the teachers don’t tell my therapist or my mom… And the cuts aren’t parallel and it’s driving me fucking insane… I want to just DIE…

I don’t know what to do, even, about that boy… one of my best friends also likes him, but she doesn’t know that he never wants to love again… should I tell her? Then I’d have to tell her that I love him. This is so fucked up.

If I could hire some crazy homicidal person to kill me, I would. Then no one would feel guilty. It would have been totally out of their hands, as far as they knew. They could have someone to blame and it wouldn’t be themselves. I wouldn’t feel bad about making them feel guilty, because they wouldn’t feel guilty. And I’d be dead.

Why is life so fucked up? More problems that aren’t even problems on top of my real problems and I’m slowly going fucking insane and no one knows or cares and the one person I can talk to I’m not even sure is fucking alive. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fucking fuck.

Alright. I’m done…