worn out

i’m 23, almost 24. i tried to kill myself last year and since then nothing’s gotten any better. i think it’s probably gotten worse, though i cry less often. i live alone in a new country now, and i haven’t made friends since i moved here. i’ve drifted away from everyone — i’m like an astronaut with a broken tether, floating through space. i can’t push myself to achieve anything, i don’t care about my goals. i don’t know what i’m waiting for. i don’t expect anything from my future and i’m not a good person. i never want to leave the house or speak to anyone. i spend so much time just eating and sleeping, keeping myself alive. but it feels like a waste of time because i don’t know what i’m living for. i don’t know if i really want to die but living is excruciating. i need things to get better because i can’t take any more of this. it’s like some kind of cruel joke. i’m not sure whether or not i’m glad that the suicide attempt didn’t work. i guess i feel absolutely neutral about it — though i think it would have saved people a lot of hassle and money, so maybe i do wish it had worked. i just want to sleep for a very long time.