Here we go. Just tossing this essay of self-hate out there, so some sicko can read it and get their jollies off from my misery. Well, either that, or well-meaning people will drop some meaningless words of encouragement, sympathy, or advice.
Where should I start? I’m 26. I think about killing myself nearly every day. Things that I once found fun, I simply do to waste time. I no longer get any enjoyment from them. I’m in college, studying chemistry, but I really don’t see the point, and I don’t even know if I’m working toward a realistic goal. I work part time at a […]
