I hate that I try to be here. That I keep fighting. I go to therapy and lately or sometimes I don’t even feel like going. I feel empty and deflated. I try to move forward and make progress for others. I somehow convince myself that I am here for some of the few people that need me. I know I am worthless and I am a waste of space and it would be better for everyone if I died. People would worry less, my obligations to certain family members would stop. When I fall, I have no one to help me up. I scraped my knee and the ones who say they love me the most can’t help. I am done trying to pull myself up again and again. I have tried to kill myself 3 times last year and some of those attempts fully well could have worked. I got worried about clean up and how a roommate would feel about finding their dead roommate. I got help, I drank charcoal, I detoxed , I sat in a hospital for 2 weeks. I got medically cleared before sitting in a psychiatric ward. I have pushed myself to move forward and live my life however that may look like, the thing is, I should of been dead when I was 13. I was partying with friends, doing drugs, cutting myself. I didn’t care after I was dumped by boyfriend or after my dad died and my mom became abusive. People think I had every right to kill myself during that time, I was bullied, I was hurting emotionally, I did not care what would happen. I wish I could pick myself up and move forward but it gets harder and harder when the sadness is constant. I feel like I can’t break free from how I feel. I just want to turn it all off and walk away from it. I do not need someone to fix me. Therapy, medicine, fuck that. I have been in treatment for my depression since I was 8. I really do not think I am fixable. Nothing I try really works. I just hate myself. I hate who I am, and I hate the situation I either put myself in or get put in. I am done crying and crying, I am done trying to cope with my anxiety and the nightmares. I am done trying to get up again alone. I am done trying to do this constant up hill battle. I need a way out and I will find one. I won’t set a date, no more dates or planning. I will do it when the time feels right, I will plan my method of course, I need something that works, consistent vomiting and a trip to the ER. I need this to work. and when I am ready to step into the darkness and let my depression win. I will. My depression is a long term illness and it will kill me. I have tried to not let it, and for all these years I have managed somehow, but now, I really don’t care.