I want death to come and take me. I’ve lived 24 years now with hope of a better day. Every day I spend working or playing is a waste. I am not afraid to kill myself.
I am afraid of what it would do to others. Death and depression go hand in hand. If I was to kill myself, family and friends would get upset and depressed thinking they could have done something to prevent it. In reality there is nothing they can do. I have given up hope a long time ago. Life for me is like drowning, holding my breath for as long as I can, trying to swim upwards to catch a breath and feel the light.
I go out to drink and smoke, numbing the pain and thoughts. Go on, I tell myself. It has to get better at some point. But as time passes and the years go by, the truth only shines brighter. I live for others for I am nothing and nothing is for me.
I am not for myself and no one is for me.
Life is not easy for anyone. I am sure I have it great compared to others. If I were to tell anyone what goes through my head on a daily basis, I can’t even imagine what would happen. Some would laugh, some would cry. I take it as weakness.
Headstrong, that the word that comes to mind when I think to myself. I work, I play, I gamble, I drink, I smoke (Both cigarettes and weed) all to stop thinking.
I don’t feel anything anymore. Sadness, anger, happiness, hunger, it’s just not with me anymore. I don’t get sad anymore because I just don’t care. I go days without eating. I put a smile on my face so others will feel comfortable. I walk away from anger, never looking back.
People say everything will happen at the right time. Though I know my time has come and gone never to return. Now I wait for an accident to happen, one which will take my life. I drive crazier than I have ever before. I starve myself for days. I’ve even cut my wrist.
Death won’t take me, for he understands what I am going through.
One day I will take the wings of death and not let go till he will take me with him.
Until that day, I will continue on.