Think about killing myself too often

More nights than not I look at my hand gun on my night stand and think about walking down the road from my house kneeling down in the field pressing the barrel under my chin at a 45 degree angel and pulling the trigger, I wish I could pull the trigger over and over after the first shot just so I could feel something. I look around at people I see everyday and wonder why I can’t feel the feelings I see on their faces, get excited over life, have real feelings for someone, have someone who has real feelings for me. I ask God to kill me because I don’t want to do it myself in case there is a hell. I just want to feel normal. I want to yell louder than I ever have, I want to punch the windshield out of my car, I want to beat my father close to death with a baseball bat, I want to hurt something, destroy something, I want to feel. I wish I could feel the way I imagine normal, happy people feel. I wish I had someone to love, trust, talk to, share feelings, be comfortable with, someone to take care of me, someone to come home to, someone to say they love me, I wish I was stronger, I wish