Sick. That's what you are. You're sick of me. Sick of my moaning. Sick of my stupid attempts. Sick of me being around. Just sick...of me. So I spent most of the day at the hospital today. My brother and I made a pact last night, only he seemed to be much better at it than I. I got scared, I couldn't let him die so I called an ambulance, only he told them about me also. I got discharged at like noon, seeing as I failed yet again, but he's still in. I can't stop crying. I'm scared im going to lose him and then that's going to be my fault, because everything is my fault. It hurts, it hurts so much...
Everyone hates me now. Faith, Elliot, Jake...I could go on...last night, well, I had this stupid idea that if I got them all to hate me, then it'd make leaving much easier. So I was pretty mean to everyone...I didn't mean what I said, it killed me but I had to do it, because I needed them to say that they hated me...
My mind works in weird ways, okay?
So yeah, I now have to see a psychiatrist/councellor person whoever...and I don't want to but it seems i'm being forced into it. I've been given some leafets about suicide and dealing with it from the hospital. They said next time I felt down I should call the Samaritans. Thing is, I wouldn't dare because one of my friends works on the phones and if she answered my call...well...yeah...
I'm sick. I'm sick of my moaning but I'm breaking down. I can't take anymore, and no one understands
