“I’ve always hoped I would choose my death.”
Its been four days since I last saw Ryan.
Am I happy? Fuck that.
I am alone, lost, tired and angry. I have been working relentlessly these last few weeks in an attempt to “cure” myself. But what is the point? I certainly feel no better for it. If anything, my mental state has deteriorated further.
I am alone inside my own head and all I want to do is break out of it. I stood alone in the workshop today, a hammer held firmly within my grasp and in that moment I seriously considered taking it to my own skull in a desperate attempt to make pulp of my brains.
I can find no release from these thoughts of pain and misery. I am crushed by depression, loneliness and the knowledge that I may well spend my entire life this way. Not because I have to but because deep down, I think it is what I want and even deserve… I cant stand these feelings for one more day.
I should rather die tonight than self-destruct slowly and painfully over years of such self inflicted agony.
Tonight I empty my pills into the sink, walk down to the bridge just outside town and drink myself into oblivion. I will see him standing beside me once again and he will show me just how easy it was for him.
I will smile that perfect smile for myself and I will die on my own terms.
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