I’ve held on for all of these years in hopes that either my efforts to better myself would eventually pay off, or things would magically get better. But something happened recently to where I realized that there is no getting better, at least for me. My life has been the same never ending cycle of misery since I was 12. Constant manic highs and lows, full of hope to complete hopelessness, but mostly hopeless lows. And I can’t seem to help but to hurt anyone I get close to.

Nobody cares and for good reason, I am not a good person. I can’t keep living thru this same cycle over and over again anymore, and I’ve finally realized that the only way to break it for good is to take myself out of the equation entirely.

I can’t handle the sadness, anger, and jealously anymore. To keep having my hope ripped out from under me by myself. And I can’t keep watching the people I love the most, more than I could ever love myself, suffering because of me. They would be so much better off without me even if they don’t realize it.

I resent the fact that I was even born at all, because there has never been anything good enough to justify all of the suffering, hopelessness, loneliness, and guilt. I don’t even know what’s right or wrong anymore, just that everything that I do is the wrong thing. I hate this life, and it’s never going to get any better, and I have unintentionally done irreparable harm to those I love and now my only attachment to them forever will be the pain I brought on them.

I want to carve up my arms until I bleed so much that I faint, I want to punch my head through a wall and give myself a concussion, I want to get a gun and blow my brains out and let my body fall back into the ocean so at least my useless corpse can feed the marine life, and maybe for once my final act on this planet will do some good rather than harm.

Why even allow me to be born? I don’t want to live this human experience, it was not made for me. I don’t understand how people are resilient, I never have been. I can’t get back up when I’ve fallen down, and even if I manage to just barely pull myself up it isn’t long before I am knocked back down. I hAte this all. I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it. And I can’t even express this pain without being accused of being obsessed with my own misery or bei criticized or judged even more so I’m constantly just suffering in silence and acting as if it’s all okay. Fuck it all. Fuck this life.

I know I’ve said it so much in my life to myself, my therapist(s), and sometimes even just the other people in my life that at this point it’s probably meaningless, but I really have nothing left to live for, and honestly I don’t know if I ever had anything to begin with. This is not a life worth living to fight for anymore. Unless a miracle happens within this next month completely out of my own control or action, then this is over. I’m done. I can’t do it anymore. I’m not putting in the effort to fight anymore for nothing. I don’t care anymore.