I don’t want to be here.

I don’t want to be here. I stay because I don’t want to hurt my family. I hate my life, it has no point. I hate myself; I’m ugly inside and out. I’m depressed, but I’m too depressed to do anything about it. I hurt myself when instead I should help myself. I don’t have motivation to do anything, but I need to do something to help my depression. ALL I THINK ABOUT IS DEATH; MY DEATH.