Copyright, Freya

I have nothing poetic to say at this point, I have been in misery since I was 11 years old, with time things would get better I thought, I was wrong. Through the years things have only gotten worse. Last july my best friend killed herself, and I broke up with my boyfriend of six years, they were the only two people I had in this world, besides my mom. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if I wasn’t already depressed from the beginning, but I have been falling lately faster then I ever have before, nobody understands this, some try to be supportive, some are angry. The only reason I am still here is because of my mom. I know it might hurt others, but my mom is the one I live for. The day she dies is the day I can finally end my own misery. I go through each day feeling as though I am already dead, I see a gun in a store and I automatically think of picking it up and putting it to my head. My brother is a cop, he showed me his gun once, he let me hold it. How I wished I was alone at that moment. I don’t want to die, but my life is pointless. It really is. I’ve never been happy, don’t know if I even know how to be happy. I am in a haze. I am on medication, but I don’t think that will work, I’ve talked to countless people about this, but all they do is frustrate me. Maybe I’m just looking for someone to tell me it’s OK for me to end my life. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, or why. My only escape is to fantasize about that gun in my hand, holding it to my head and pulling the trigger.


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