I’m not going to put my whole life story down. Nobody cares about that, anyways. I just want to head down into the basement and chug the bleach. Every day when I go to take my medication, I am always SO close to just grabbing a handful of my moms pills and my own and heading to bed. I hate myself and everyone else around me does, too. Why not just make it stop! I want it to end! The idea of no more experiencing or feeling or anything else that is just a normal part of life is okay with me. But I don’t stop it because I don’t want to make anybody feel sad because I’m gone. Funny, huh? I know that they hate me, yet some part of my brain is so desperate for love that I trick myself into thinking that I have it. Better yet, I can’t kill myself for the sake of the people that make me want to end it all in the first place. I’m sorry if you don’t like cussing, but life is too fucked up. Maybe one day I’ll actually have tge courage to take my own. Or maybe somebody else will do it for me.