I’ve been suicidal for two years, but during those two years I had reasons to keep going. Yeah, those reasons were few and far between, but they were there. I have virtually no reason to live anymore. I can’t drag people down. My friends – they don’t know about this. They didn’t much know about my self-harm (well, not purposely. If it was my choice they wouldn’t know at all), and they don’t know much about my ED. I find all of this, all of what I’m going though, humiliating. I’m not this person. I never was. I used to be so happy, and I was the one cheering up others. I couldn’t stand to see anyone upset. I guess that saying that those who help are most likely going through even worse problem than those they are trying to cheer up. I can’t keep going if I have no reason to keep going….and I don’t. Everything is gone. I’m not going to put my friends through drama by telling them. I don’t want pity. I don’t want them to think differently of who I am. I had one friend that I had met on a suicide forum. He has no clue what he has meant to me. He’s getting better. His life is moving on and I refuse to bring him down. We used to talk daily, then I went on a hiatus for a few days. Things changed in his life (for the better), and he began getting busy. I’m telling him tomorrow that I think it’s best that we stop emailing each other because it eats at me inside knowing that I could possibly be bringing him down with what I’m going through. I like to think I’ve really helped him because when we first became friends he was constantly down on himself, talked about death and suicide often, and was rarely happy. Then I noticed his messages became filled with happiness and laughter and joking. He told me I managed to make him happy somehow. I can’t do this to him anymore, so I’m telling him goodbye. As for my family, they are all moving on with their lives. My sisters are doing amazing things, and my parents are working to have everything they want *and deserve*. I’m not one to complain. My family and friends are great, yet my life is complete shit because of one factor: me. So by taking myself out of it, I imagine how happy they’d be. I can’t get attached to anyone anymore because I’m just going to end up hurting them. Anyways, I’m still here, but I’m wavering on the edge and counting my days.
I hope all of you guys find a reason to live.