I’ve always thought about killing myself. It’s been the one consistent character trait I’ve had since I was three, and I don’t know why I feel this way. Today at work, I realized that suicide seems to be the only way for me to go. I don’t know when, where, or why, but it’s all I have. I don’t have friends, I have people that I call friends, but I don’t have the emotional fortitude to have any real emotion for anyone. That is relatively new, it started when I was seventeen. Now here I am, 21, on a suicide blog. I don’t want to be this person, I don’t want to hate myself, I don’t know why I do. All I know is that I can’t force myself into happiness, I can’t force myself into believing in my worth. I don’t know what to do other than bleed and bide my time until I have a “good excuse” to die, or until someone kills me.
This is my life. simple, dark and confused.
1 comment
I’ve never been able to formulate my own thoughts so accurately, you hit spot on and your not the only one