Things don’t get easier

I never wanted to live, not even when I was a child. I still remember when I was 9 years old and cut myself for the first time. I squat there in the sand behind my classroom and sawed at my arm with the metal insert of a wooden ruler until I saw blood.  I hated myself so much and the only thing that seemed to take the pressure away was putting myself in pain. When I was 13 I tried a knife for the first time but it was the razor blades I discovered at 20 that changed things for me. In college I used them almost every day.

I’m 26 years old now and I cant seem to make it through a single day without crying or wishing I was dead. It has only gotten worse as I have gotten older. I’m in pain all the time but I have no one to talk to about it. My foster mom thinks i’m being stupid and weak, my friends feel uncomfortable whenever I mention it and I have no significant other to comfort me. I am constantly reminded of my failures in life and know I will never suceed and will never find anyone who will find me worthy enough to be in their life. All I do now is wait for the day I will have the courage to kill myself instead of wishing I could.