These are my confessions. The whole truth, as I know it. Not much though, and I would never take anything I say at face value. I've been lying to myself for so long that even I'm not so sure anymore. Of course, I don't believe I've ever been sure. I am laying here in my tub, stretched out in the now luke-warm water. One knee propped up with this clipboard leaning against it. It's night, so it's unusual for me to be in the shower/bath. I'm not really cleaning up, just soaking. I'll wash up when i get up for work tomorrow. I'm really in here to think. One thing I do plenty of, and probably do far too often. I have never really tried to kill myself. I've done things that would be construed as suicidal, but I've never expected myself to die from them. I've stabbed my arm, cut it open, and I have all the stupid scars I hide to prove it, but I never really expected to die from them. Maybe I did it for pain, maybe for attention. I'm never really sure. Come to think... I might have just done it to try and prove to myself that I could do it. I lied convincingly enough to believe I really could kill myself. When I purposefully wrecked my car, I wanted to die. I had been thinking, far too much again. But even as I saw the road above me when I flipped, the thought "I'm going to die" never once flitted across my mind. I wouldn't consider myself suicidal I don't believe. I don't have the guts to do it. Today though, the reason I started this, I looked at a bottle of excedrin. Common household item, I have it in my room because of my stupid joints. But, I couldn't help but think about taking the whole bottle. The thought occurred to me, that I've never really been close to dead. I've never really tried to kill myself. I understood why. You can do something about that cut. You can tie your arm off with a belt, make a tourniquet, and you'd be fine. But I thought about those pills. No real way to stop after you've taken those. You just have to lay back and wait. There is no coming back after those. You've really committed. And I knew then that I'd been lying to myself all along. I looked over the bottle, and considered kicking it back. I've taken a few Vicodin, and suffered, but never enough to really kill me I guess. But I really really wanted to take the whole "industrial sized" bottle of excedrin. I looked it over, and saw on the bottom of it HDPE, some code probably, but at first glance looked like "hope." Stupid of me really, to be moved by some silly little thing on the bottom of a pill bottle, but I put it down and decided instead to try and sort my thoughts by typing in this diary. so here I am, sorting my thoughts, sifting through my untruths. Trying to find who I really am.