I feel like no one really believes me when I say that I wish I was dead. As if just because I have somehow held onto enough strength to not attempt suicide that it makes me not suicidal over all. Lately everything has been fucking down hill and I've had to use every ounce of that strength to not make myself bleed again. And honestly Idk how much longer that at least is going to last. Addiction doesn't just go away I suppose.













