  

**Everyday thoughts**

I struggle everyday with the thoughts of killing myself. I have a plan for suicide. Because of my mental health history and my previous attempts, I am statistically more likely to commit suicide. I am a failure. I am socially awkward. I have zero confidence in myself or my abilities. I always expect the worst in every situation. I have always felt unworthy of love or anything positive, which is why I don’t know how to handle any compliments anyone gives me. I have zero friends, no one reaches out to me, despite me reaching out to them. No one cares enough beyond offering superficial advice and sympathy. I am the scum of the earth. I do not belong here. I don’t deserve to live. I don’t deserve to be happy. I am alienated from my children. My feelings aren’t valid. My body is gross. I am not intelligent enough. I am never going to be financially secure and will always struggle just to live an ordinary life. I am always discredited by other adults because I look like a young kid instead of a man in his mid-thirties. The only time I ever received any type of respect is when I wore the uniform. I am always taken advantage of. I am alone. I am always tired. I’m always sad. I can’t sleep and when I do, I sleep too much. I don’t eat, to the point where I spend much of the day with a headache. I can’t envision a future of any kind for myself. I don’t deserve to live. I have hurt other people in the past, everyday I am haunted by this. I was sexually abused as a child and when I told someone about it, I was belittled and made to think that it was my fault and was called a faggot numerous times (all at the age of 7). I grew up being extremely bullied and isolated. My father destroyed my confidence at a very young age. I feel guilty for existing. I am scared. I cry a lot by myself. I am genuinely disappointed when I wake up in the morning that I didn’t die in my sleep. I was sexually abused in elementary school, I never told anyone about it. I was sexually abused in middle school, I never told anyone about it. Each time it was by a male. I will never do the things I want to do in life: travel, find real love, watch my children grow up, become financially stable. I am giving up. I’ve have always had to support people who never truly supported me. I deserve to die. I’m scared. I feel unrelenting pain all the time and must somehow still function and come off to others as if I don’t, because no one truly cares about anyone who is suffering from mental illnesses, you’ll be treated like a leper. I have seen 7 different metal health professionals in the past two years. I have been given 15 medications within the past two years. None have worked and all had severe side effects. I am always told to be grateful, which completely diminishes my feelings and makes me feel that they are invalid. I am scared. I don’t want to live any longer. I want my suffering to end. I am ugly. I am not worthy. My body is gross. I am alone. I’m scared. I always feel weak, physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally. I am a failure. I have so many regrets. I wish I never became a father; it has only caused hardship and emotional damage to me. I am alienated from my children. I am looking forward to death. I am not scared to die. I numb myself with marijuana. I miss people who don’t miss me. I am a failure. I will never have a happy life. I have never truly had a happy life. I haven’t felt like smiling in a very, very long time. I think about dying every single day. I am ugly. My body is gross. I have no friends, just acquaintances. I hate myself. I despise being me. I wish I was dead. I am not worthy of love or happiness. I feel completely defeated. I have zero confidence in myself or that anything will work out. I am always disappointed. My body is gross. I don’t deserve love. I am alone all the time. I feel like a prisoner. I feel like life is a trap. Life means nothing in the literal sense. We are born, we are alive by definition, and we die. No rhyme or reason to it. My life has been nothing but suffering. My body is gross. I am weak. No matter how hard I work at anything, I never succeed, and I fail. I am destined to fail. I am destined to struggle. Even my birthdays don’t mean anything. I wouldn’t wish my life on anyone. I feel as if I am being punished for living. I am being punished because I tried to love. I am being punished because I tried to be happy. I accept fully that I am not worthy of love or happiness. I know that I’ll have relief in death because when I am asleep, I don’t feel this way. I feel nothing and to feel nothing is wonderful.