I Feel So Weird, Like A Zombie Or Something, I Finally Got The Courage, And Finally Told Someone Everything, Well Mostly Everything, There Are SOme Things Im Keeping To The Grave. Im Getting The Help I Need, But I Regret It, Im Sitting Waiting For The CAMHS(Child And Adolecent Mental Health Service) Crisis Team, And All I Can Think Is What The F**k Have I Done This For, Im Never Gunna Have The Chance Again, So Im Gunna Have To Go Thorugh All Of The Councelling Again, I Guess Its A Good Thing, Because I Know That Death Isn’t Really What I Deep Down Want, But It Will Be So Much Nicer, So Much Easier, No More Pain! What I Want Is, Well I Kinda Want Them To Admit Me, Because Then It Really Will Get Sorted, Instead Of What Happened Last Time, They Just Come Once A Week If They Can Make It, And Tell Me Stuff I Know Already, That Ends Up In Me Wanting To End It All So Much More, I Hate The Feeling Of Them Looking Down At Me, I Know Its There Job To Look Out For Me, But I Just Get The Feeling Of, Your A Messed Up Teenager, You Will Grow Out Of It. Im Sorry, But Even If It Is A ‘Phase’ Im Sitting Every Night Writting Note After Note, Sitting With A Knife Contemplating Plunging It Into Myself And Just Ending It. How The Hell Does Once A Week Talking About My Problems Help? Answer… It Doesnt! As The Days Go On, The Worse I Feel, I Know I Have Logically Done The Right Thing, But I Wish I Hadn’t Because Now Im In For More And More ‘Help’ I Just Want To Die, And NOBODY Can Help Me With That.