This sight has succeeded on increasing my motives on suicide
I hate when people tell me it’s going to be ok… That life gets better. I get that, I do. But honestly if I lived an alliterative life with all the money in the world I still wouldn’t be happy. I know too much and seen too much to be happy. Why can’t people accept that?
It’s 4am and I’m lonely.
It’s 4am and I’m questioning my existence again.
It’s 4am and the demons in my head are out to play.
It’s 4am and I’m feeling more miserable by the second.
It’s 4am and I’m in pain, but I don’t trust myself enough to take pills.
It’s 4am and I’ve lost my will.
It’s 4am and I’m depressed.
It’s 4am and I need help.
It’s 4am and minutes pass on.
It’s 4am and there’s no difference between time, because I’ll still be feeling the same as I did at 4am…