I contemplate killing myself every other day. Every. Other. Day. It's friggin' exhausting fighting my thoughts. That's why I'm confessing. I'm supposed to tell someone, but I'm too much of a coward to tell anyone but my psychiatrist... and I can't even get myself to call him up to confess like I should, so I'll just wait until he asks at my next appointment.. and even then I will say it like it's no big deal. Because that's what I do. Every day.

This medication tries to help by making me avoid real feelings, but I don't want to be here. I'm afraid if I don't tell anyone, then I will do it and my sister & mom would be sad. I don't want to make them sad.

How do you live for other people though? It's so difficult. Complete selflessness? HOW?! I keep putting up with myself every day for other people. That's just so fucked up.

But here I am. Confessing. Drugs or no drugs, I hate being here. Putting up with my fucking emotions or lack thereof, I have to put up with myself. ughhhhh

It's out now.. this is as far as I can confess though. I'm too ashamed to spread the word, to ask for help. Help?

That's enough for today.