Just curious

I feel okay, every now and again, I try my hardest to be happy, and it works, every now and again-but for some reason after so long I just end up back here. Unable to move, breathe, or talk without somehow feeling pained by the burden. I can’t think of anything else except for how easy it would be to just finally end it.

I wish it wasn’t this way, there are plenty of things I would have liked to have done, and to have seen. But I’m not cut out for those things apparently, seventeen years it took me to finally realize that anything and everything that has to do with me is auotomatic shit. I can’t try at anything, I always fail. We never had anything growing up, and I was okay with this I didn’t need a safe home, or copious amounts of food, or friends. I had my family, we all sacrificed everything to help each other because things were so rough and seeing as how I am the eldest I gave up the most, but I didn’t care because I was helping. After a time though, and after fights began to break out my parents brought it to my attention that I “brought this all on myself, no one asked for me to help out so much and no one wanted me to,” now, I’m behind in school, I have no hopes of graduating, no college, no job, amd mo will to live. I can’t even get up to close the blinds I feel as if I’ve just finally reached my limit, my body is limp, my tears will not stop rolling. But none of this matters, I’m just curious of the fact of….am I justified in doing this?