Back in summer 2016 – I planned (badly) to commit suicide.
I remember making notes on my phone at the time.
E was with M (I knew he was a cunt) and I was mentioning that she doesn’t need me even though I needed her.
CS didn’t need me, she doesn’t care anyways.
CB doesn’t need me, she wouldn’t give a fuck if I was dead or not.
I just don’t see the point anymore, the only girl I can see myself being with won’t have me.
My past has been a fucking fuck up, its a fucking mess.
I have tried so so hard to get where I am but I know I have a long way to go.
Lockdown – what is the fucking point of living now?
Let me tell you about the past few weeks, I have been visiting the same bridge just standing aside it and on it contemplating suicide.
Fear gets me every single time. Survival mode will kick in and I would end up knowing my luck failing and being alive, just wet and cold.
But the idea is there, and it scares me.
What fucks me off is that I told CB, no check ins. Nothing. Nothing at all, I COULD BE FUCKING DEAD AND YOU WOULDN’T KNOW.
Do you know how much that hurts??
I’m really struggling.
I just want it all to end. I want my life to end. I can’t do this anymore.
I want people to notice that what they are doing, is impacting people and will have caused a suicide.
Back when I was suicidal before, I literally should have killed myself, It would have saved all the pain. What a fucking mug.