But I don’t think there’s a good way for me to go on living. I feel horrible all of the time. I’ve seen enough doctors, therapists, and social workers to populate a small country. I don’t see any future for me. I don’t even have any dreams to hang on to. I don’t have any friends either. I’ve spent two weeks in the hospital. It made things worse.
It is sad when happy people die; if only we could trade places so that they could go on living.
I’m young. I hate it when older people complain that my generation feels entitled to more than we deserve. […]