but i guess you can never really recover from anxiety and depreesion fully.
Me: *Pours several bottles of various pills onto my bed*
Mind: I'm ready for this.
Mind: Should I?
Mind: I can't.
Mind: Come on, do it you fucking pussy.
Mind: You scared?
Mind: No one will notice when you're gone.
Mind: No one will care.
Mind: No one cares now, why would they when you're gone?
Mind: You're alone. You will always be alone.
Mind: Everyone just leaves. No one really gives a fuck about you.
Mind: No one wants you here anyway.
Mind: It will make everyone happy if you just die. Now. Do it.
Mind: Seriously what are you waiting for?
Mind: You stupid fat ugly cunt...just fucking swallow them.
Mind: You can do it.
Mind: Think about it. No more pain. No more tears. No more guilt. No more anything. You will be free.
Mind: Come on. You know it's what you want.
Me: *Stares at the pile of pills in front of me for a long while.*
Me: *Grabs blade instead*
Me: *Survives one more day*
Adults: She tried to cut herself to death.
Mind: No...I did it to stay alive...but they don't understand that.
relapsed last night. I’m a fucking failure
