suicide. it seems so unusual today. like it's a concept my very own mind has created. without help, of course. because i don't belive there is another person who could possibly be brilliant enough. that's what it feels like. it's like i've been denied rational solutions so i worked out my own. a better way to end my problems. quicker and more beautiful. filled with meaning. possibly shattering to the average eye.

i want to die. and i have plenty of will power. i'm just not sure it's the right kind. sure i can starve myself. sure i can cut myself 198 times in one sitting and not shed a tear... but do i have enough to actually spare myself pain i feel i deserve?

i have recently made a discovery. i believe that the reason it takes so long for me to cut myself is because it fascinates me. i love the color! and the cuts always seem so...idk. it's hard to explain. it's like i'm the only one who knows how to do it. no one else can cut themselves like i can. and if there is someone who can do it like i can... i can most certainly do it better!

i stopped taking my meds. i wasn't supposed to. in fact, i'm pretty sure that it was an extremely bad idea. i am currently trying to decide whether i want to go to a hospital or just gather all my courage, strength, and willpower and finally kill myself. like i've been wanting to do for months. i'm worried about a friend of mine though. my best friend actually. she says she'd feel guilty if i killed myself. i don't want to leave her feeling guilty. she means too much to me. i don't want to hinder her happiness in any way. also...my mother. i worry about my mother. she's already depressed and has been suicidal at many points during her life. she has mentioned MANY TIMES BEFORE how lost she would be without me. and how she's not sure that she could live if i died befor her.

a lot of bad things have happened in my life. and even though i recognize the fact that they can be mentally and emotionally damaging towards a child i refuse to recognize the fact that i have a right to be dysfunctional. because of what happened me. but to me... my problems are not justified. i have wished for terrible things to happen to me just so i would have a reason to feel the way i do. and i hate it. there are so many other people who have been through so much more and can deal with worse events more than i can deal with mine.

i also tend to doubt my memories. what if i am wrong? what if that is not what REALLY happened? and my questions are just. i often have trouble telling the difference between reality and fiction. dreams are memories. thoughts are memories. the present is distorted. i'm more often than not out of touch with reality on some level. whether it be minor or major.

as i finished this up... i realized just how much i haven't realized about myself and the way i work. maybe next time i'll learn more.

-sarah.

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