I’m a douche

I tried to kill myself a few months ago, and that’s not what worries me. What worries me is that I don’t think it was a legitimate suicide attempt. I think I knew those pills weren’t going to kill me. I’m too smart and manipulative for that. I think I deliberately hurt people for attention. Being alone and depressed and addicted to Tumblr, I didn’t know anything else I could do. Now I’ve lost any online friends that I once had and I’m going to explode from the bottled up emotions. I need to talk, I need to talk, I need to talk, but I refuse point blank to talk to my parents or a therapist. Anathema. Everything is anathema to me. I’m destroying myself but I’m too much of a ***** to actually kill myself. There’s a difference between wanting the pain to end and wanting your life to end but I’m having a hard time separating the two.