My local psychiatrists are scumbags, who don't give a shit that I feel bad. They don't care that I want to die. They see scars on my hands, they know that I made some of them with my nails because I didn't have anything else sharp - and they still send me back, prescribing me some pills, that our medics surely don't have. I don't want to endure all of this anymore. I don't have strength for that. I feel like I am tied to railways and there is a train going towards me and I can't do anything except finish it earlier so that there would be less suffering. I am very grateful for that year when I could leave on my own. Thank you to everyone who was with me. I don't blame any of you and I love all of you. Bye.