December 31st 2016

that is the day i decide it is over or i decide to move on with my life and hope its better. that is either my last day or the continuation of my life. i dont know which yet. some times im like “hell yeah, ill keep living” then most others are like “can it just all be over now?” i think i might try to keep a journal or something with a list. a list of all the reasons i should kill myself and a list of all the reasons i should stay alive. maybe thatll help me come to a decision at the end of the year. because, sometimes, i have days like today where i feel weak in the chest and want nothing more than to cry. but i cant. i cant because there are other people in this house with me. people i cant tell about my depression because if they knew, if they knew, they would try to help me. and i know i should ask for help. but i dont trust my family. they talk too much. and i just dont want them to know. ive been coming up with rough, but detailed, outlines of my death. im trying to figure out what i want to do when the time comes. but i never realized how hard it is to come up with those methods, and i tend to think about the things revolving around it. how everyone will react, what ill say in my suicide note, who would speak at my funeral, who would show up. i feel like quite a few people would show up. my dads side of the family is pretty big and i was in marching band in high school and tried to be friends with most of the people there. so i feel like my funeral wouldnt be small. which is one reason why i shouldn’t kill myself. but it makes me think: will those people be there because they cared about me and knew me? or will they be there because its expected of them to be? in high school, in the marching band, one of the members fell off a mountain and died before the school year started. i had never had a conversation with this kid or even really knew who he was, but in band, everyone is your second family there. and i was band council president. so i went to the kids funeral because i felt like it was expected of me to be there. and all i could think during the funeral was “why couldn’t it have been me? im the one who really want to be dead here, this kid could’ve had a full life. why cant we trade places?” i wasnt necessarily sad for his death, but i went because it was expected and all i thought was “why couldnt it have been me?”

December 31st 2016 is so far away, but also too close.