therapy today; psychiatrist tomorrow.
My mom says I look happy.
My therapist says I look happy.
My friends say I am happy.
I may be happy. I may even feel hopeful sometimes.
Do happy people still think about killing themselves everyday?
To live a day without these thoughts, to make those thoughts a taboo from my mind like it should be, that would be wonderful.
As human beings, we have an instinct to live.
Mine died the moment I realized how cruel the world is.
I don’t like most people. I don’t like the people I know. I don’t like my “best friends” I don’t like the guy who was there for me through some tough shit. I don’t like my family. I don’t like the people on facebook. I’m finding it harder and harder to hold on to reason. I’m finding it more difficult to keep the loneliness from becoming overwhelming. I don’t want to be sucked into the hole in the ground again. But the ground beneath me is cracking.
I don’t want to feel this alone in a crowd of people.
I hate arguing with people. It’s such a waste of my time.
Seriously, why do I bother?
I’m seriously so fed up right now. I can’t stand the people in my life. Two faced, flakey, uninsterested, uncaring, angry, bitchy, lying “friends” and “family.” I can’t wait to finish college. I’m moving way the fuck away from all the sluts, douchebags, assholes, bitches, and terrible people here. I hate it, I hate this place and I hate these people. I want to start over where I won’t know everyone so well, so I can at least PRETEND the new people in my life are somewhat decent. FUCK.
