So easy.

I had a cyst on my wrist, right near the vein. I cut it out. It didn’t hurt much even though I had to cut very deep. I’m sorry if that’s gross but whatever. It actually felt nice to cut that deep again. And I thought, well if I were to slit my wrists then I think it’d be about the same. I don’t think it would hurt much and the relief of slipping into nothingness would be the best feeling ever.
Nothingness would be so much better than constantly hating myself.
And nothingness would be better than constantly envisioning my suicide, and that I have no friends, and that my life has amounted to absolutely nothing.
I clean, I cook, I clean, and then I cook. Over and over again.