As I begin to lay down for another sleepless night, I ponder at the thought of just dying. Of taking my own way out because the anxiety and depression have overwhelmed me and once again beat my ragged body to nothing. My legs now quiver and my heart beat echoes through the night. Yet, I’m confused of what I’m afraid of in the moment. The lifeless black surrounding me in the box I struggle to rest in, gives little comfort. So I’ll pull my ragged body off the ground, grab my razor, and put my mind to sleep.
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4 comments
Goodnight.
Hey man. I was just going through some of your posts. The one post of yours where you say, “Life is a game and I refuse to play.” sounds like a direct quote straight out of my journal. Shoot me an e-mail when you can, I’d like to talk: sk8erboi500@gmail.com
I never get how cutting helps other people … but it wont help with your depression for sure.
Lets talk ?
It just silences your thoughts for as long as the stinging pounds away at your cuts. Thoughts as in suicide and what not. For me the thoughts of that never left unless I cut. That’s me. It’s different for many I would assume.