I read all of your stories here, and I feel sad, angry at the world, frustrated and at times soothed. I think of my own story and feel nothing.
I don’t have a story, just the pain that comes with it. I grew up in a normal family, had normal friends, got normal grades and, for the most part, was normal. But as far back as I can remember I’ve wanted to die. The thought consumes me.
My first close call happened when I was 15 and in the school play. I screwed up horribly, and after the show I went to an old bridge and sat […]