So I admit, I lost it yesterday. I have these moments where all I want is to die. I just can’t take the pressure anymore. I feel like a failure, a real piece of shit. Then I start writing on this blog and texting close friends and everyone keeps telling me to cut the crap. Yeah. I know. I’m focusing on the negative. Too much shit really. All the fucked up memories come back to life and haunt me. I can’t think of the past. I’m not fucked up. Just a fragile porcelain doll who sometimes needs a break. Getting a break usually means not sleeping and crying all night long, but hey, we all need outlets, right?
I contemplated dying last night. I really did. Ending it all with a bottle of pills. Not waking up the next day. Seeing no point in anything I do. Giving up. Exiting like a coward. I’m still here. Breathing. My cats would miss me too much if I died now. Lol Trying to cheer myself up. I can’t be selfish. Too many people depend on me, and love me. I sometimes forget them because the omnipresent darkness swallows me whole. I feel like a clown who has to put up an act to make people laugh, but inside, I’m crying. I’m sad.
I just want so much. I’m hungry for more. I want to succeed. I want to be free from the day job, and the routine, and the pain. Will I ever be free from the pain though? Without it, I can’t write. These words will really save me.
My heart aches, but I’ll be okay. Another dawn, another day. Black is very trendy anyway so I’m fashionable in my own misery.
My subconscious should slap me for saying stuff like that.