Why Do I Do This

Why? Why do I do this to myself? Why do I keep making myself suffer? Why don’t I have the courage to do it?

This is my life and I can do it if I want to, I’m tired of people saying don’t, I’m sick of them telling me to stop being so damn selfish and to think of others. Like I’m a person too damnit why cant they think of what I’m going through, Why cant they see the pain I see why do they have the strength I don’t have. Where the hell am I supposed to go a damn hospital doesn’t help I went and they didn’t do shit all they do is send in is fucking therapists that sit there and listen to my stories and jot them down and then they get paid more then most for sitting and listening and prescribing pills. Like what the fuck what the actual fuck I’m sitting here paying you for you to give me fucking pills that can lead to pain in the fucking future. Then I stop doing that and I have to listen to my parents yell at me for all my mistakes. That’s all I am is a fucking mistake. God didn’t want to make me I was a draft and he clicked send on accident but what I don’t get is why does he still let me fucking live. I’m tired of fucking up that’s all I do and ever will do, I’m sick of people saying keep your head high it will get better but when huh when will it get better tell me that and yea it might get better but for how fucking long a day a year a few years but something at some point in time will fuck up again. I come from a psychotic father and a overstressed mother, I have adhd and bad sight and extreme anxiety with a faster heart rate cause of my adhd and my medicine for my adhd but I drink 6 monsters a day hoping that my heart will finally give the fuck out because then it would be better no more fuck ups no more pain for others I will just be remembered as someone people used to know. I have chose writing on this site to help me from killing myself so I can express myself and get some fucking weight off my shoulders and see if others feel the same as me but so far all this writing has done is cause a relief for a day its like a fucking drug that wears off and everything comes back I have a bottle of pain killers next to me and I’m cutting myself right now as I’m typing this my black keyboard and painting it with drops of crimson red it makes a nice finish to be honest. But what I’m getting at is what the fuck is wrong with me and why I do this to myself why cant I be like my friends and power on through this pain I fell like the weekling of the group because I’m sitting here cutting and typing my pain with cuts on my arm. I’m trying to decide if I should continue living or not but I also cant tell is If I should keep living were in this world that’s all fucked up and theres nothing we can do to stop it anymore were all gonna ruin this fucking planet. I once said to someone maybe I should kill myself and they said do it it will save food and it wouldn’t matter cause of the billions of people on this planet. Now my writing has just changed and back to what I was saying I’m tired of it all and I want to sleep and never wake up. So I’m gonna just stop writing and let fate decide what to do with me I might fall asleep and not wake up or I might fall asleep and wake up puking my guts out so goodbye I might make another post. As I say in all of my post thank you for reading this.