So. Moons ago. When I was 17 years old, the night before my 18th birthday I almost died. I should have. Cause ever since that day I have been nothing but a burden. I am so tired of living just to make others miserable. My whole life is falling apart. No one understands anymore no one gets me. Like I literally can’t even believe how my life has screwed me. I am pretty sure my parents want me to go to a psych ward cause I hurt myself once. Once. I won’t do it again. I just want to be happy. I can’t though unless I mask my pain with other shit.
About a week ago I tried to end my life. Not the first time. One thing people don’t tell you is that right before it happens you don’t think about how everyone else is going to be sad. You think about it like you’re doing them a favor. Like you’re not gonna be missed and that you are doing good cause you’re just burdening people with your feelings of depression and anxiety. You think it’s the right thing. I’m still wondering why I’m here but for now I don’t want to be gone. Just have to wait til I break again I guess or something. Unless things stay ok then I guess I’ll be ok but I have a lot of doubts. I have been thinking things like who should show up to the hospital or my funeral. The sad thing is that I know a lot of people would. My family would be completely baffled by the amount of people I know that they didn’t know I knew. I know all these people and I still feel like a problem. I still feel like I should be alone. I just keep moving on and pushing on because I can’t escape this. No one understands it around me everyone thinks I’m selfish. The worst part is the people who stay just cause they feel bad. Those are the ones I want to go away.
So the last post I made I made crying in my bed drunk. Why? I don’t know. Ok that’s a lie. I don’t remember necessarily what happened to set me off but I completely snapped and publicly embarrassed myself because that person I have been posting about completely destroyed my heart. Which is no excuse to get completely trashed and make a scene, but I did. Then as the night went on I continued to do some stupid things because I can not control my emotions and have come to realize I probably have a chemical imbalance in my brain. Anyway, after 6 shots and 4 mixed drinks I blacked. And I don’t remember what I said to this person but I know it wasn’t nice. Is this really the point that this whole relationship has gotten me to? I’m depressed, I think terrible things, I don’t want to see people or go anywhere, and sometimes I wonder if I should be alone or not. I often find me asking myself if it’s really worth it to get out of bed and do this thing called “life” that everyone including myself was forced into. I just want to know I want answers. I know I’m not crazy.