I’m gonna join the stars.

I have officially decided to make sure I kill myself this time. I don’t know exactly when, but it’s going to be soon.  The only time I’ve tried it was around 6 months ago. I took a pack of razors to the alternative school I was attending at the time, went to the bathroom, and started cutting my arms. I only managed to get through the first layer of skin at first. I knew this wouldn’t be enough to bleed out so I took the razor and started slicing into one of the long wounds I had already made and I hear a knock at the door. FUCK! It was my dad. I had forgotten to take my depression meds so he was bringing them to me. I didn’t want him to find his son dead, let alone laying in a pool of blood. So I stopped. And off I was rushed to the hospital and given 11 stitches on one arm and a trip back to the mental hospital for the 3rd time. I haven’t tried anything since then, mainly because my parents took every single object in our house that you could harm yourself with and locked them away. They closely observed every movement I made for months, but now they are to where they can somewhat trust me to leave the house alone. It’s really sad that I have a loving family but my depression makes me not care that they will be so devastated.