"I was hoping you'd check up on me today. Why didn't you?"
"I was planning on calling you. I was lifting weights and then helping move furniture and then stuff. I didn't realize it had gotten so late."
*calls me, I don't answer*
"I don't really know if there's any point in talking to you tonight. I am disappointed."
"Okay, sorry, Little Face."
"Please don't call me pet names anymore, shiny. You know they don't mean anything to you and they just hurt me."
"Okay. Sorry, Tugboat."
"I just wish you would think, you know?"
"I know. Sorry."
it gets worse at night. I lay in bed and try to focus on my breathing and slow my racing heart, but nothing helps. I find myself concocting suicide plans. I think I have a pretty good one. But I have to wait, you know? I have to see my sister and her family and my dad again first. I have to remind them how much I love them.
I find the thought of dying to be a comfort. the absolute darkness is soothing. not soothing enough to lull me to sleep, apparently, but soothing enough to slow my crazy thoughts. I guess what I would want is for people to understand that I'm deeply sad and have been for a long time. I can't remember a time in my life when I wasn't depressed and I can't imagine it ever being otherwise. I am not in love with this world. I am so sick of being scared all the time and worried and alone. Change is full of little deaths but after a while you can't change anymore so the death just takes you instead.
yeah, angsty and high-schoolish, but true for me.
it feels like I don't belong. I have never belonged. I was just able to ignore it a little better before. but since this year .. since all this shit .. it is so clear to me that I can't hide it anymore.
I feel closer to death than I have since I was 18 and swallowed all those pills. that was almost 11 years ago. on my mom's birthday.
november 19.
I just want to finish this year.
I wonder if I can finish this year.
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