after spending two months in the psych ward last year after attempting to kill myself, i thought that maybe hope isnt so false after all. i saw a little glimmer of it in the midst of my recovery. fast forward to this year, when i thought to myself, this is what being on the brink of relapse feels like, to actually let the thought of suicide cross your mind again. it was raining outside, and it was late at night, so i put on all black and went for a walk in the woods in the dark, sobbing, trying to justify why i shouldnt try and kill myself again. a man found me and talked with me until i stopped crying. that night was when i saw hope a second time. i guess because of those two instances i thought, wow, maybe i should give being hopeful a try. and so i did, but it fucked me over. i mean when shit is too good to be true, it really is, it always is. in the midst of my mental break down right now, i keep on asking myself the same question, why?