Every time I think I’m starting to feel a little better, slightly calm, I’m reminded that I’m a piece of shit.

Maybe they’re all right. Maybe they’d all be happier if I were gone. 

I just want to go on a road trip, see everyone who’s ever tried to help or be kind in some way. Hang out with them for an hour or so, tell them I’m sorry. Then, find a nice quiet place and just find a peaceful way to go. 

I don’t want to hurt anyone, or make anyone feel like it’s their fault. I do everything I can and it’s never enough. Go to work, cook, clean, watch the kids, do grocery shopping, take care of pets, and try to make people happy as much as I can. But those things are never seen. All everyone sees are the times I fuck up. Forgot to put up my keyboard, yelled at the kid for putting the second full roll of toilet paper in the toilet in one day, and if I ever get slightly agitated then I’m considered violent or mean. 

She got mad at me today because I had to go use the bathroom while she was talking to me. If this is gonna be my life, this constant hatred, I should just go. I’m sorry I don’t make thousands of dollars a day to afford a new car and repair the house and take care of kids and keep up with chores and give you undivided attention. I’m sorry I’m not perfect. But if all I do is let people down, then one more time shouldn’t hurt. 

Is bleeding out peaceful? Is a cocktail of drugs peaceful? Should I even tell anyone? I don’t want to burden anyone, or give them a chance to blame themselves. It’s just me, I’m trash and it’s all I’ll ever be.