An emotional wreck.

I know in my heart how much of an emotional wreck I am right now.

I’m pretty sure it’s not normal to think about suicide every single day.

I saw this picture the other day, or a couple weeks ago, or something on an article on Buzzfeed about a self-harm blog, and it was a picture of a wrist with a cross on it, and on the horizontal line it said hospital and on the vertical line it said morgue. And I think about that picutre way more than I should.

It’s just that. It’s just that it all hurts so much.

And the only time it doesn’t hurt is when I’m on so many drugs that I can’t think straight or see straight or have a normal conversation. The only time I get any relief from the pain that feels like a cindar block on my right ribs and a butcher knife stabbing me in the side is when I take so many drugs that I stumble around my apartment. And I hate it.

I hate it so much.

I cry because I’m in pain. I cry because I’m on drugs. I cry because I’m on drugs and they aren’t working and I’m still in pain.

And I hate all of it.

And I just want all of it to end so bad.

And I feel like I’m screaming with everything I have left in my heart for help, but nobody can hear me. Or nobody wants to hear me.

I feel like my fingers are on the edge of a giant cliff in the middle of a forest and the dirt beneath them is slipping and I can’t figure out how to hold on.

How do you possibly explain to someone that you’re just about out of strength? That your faith is pretty much dried up? And that everything you thought you believed you don’t believe anymore?

I feel like the doctors are mad at me when the stupid crap they keep trying to do isn’t working. And I feel like they think I’m over exaggerating how much pain I’m in.

I feel like I need an insane amount of emotional support right now, but I have no idea where to find it. It’s like I’m looking at my body from a distance, and I can stand outside of the situation and see how much help I need, but I can’t seem to figure out where to get it.

Because how do you just bring up in conversation that you’re in so much pain everyday all day that you want to kill yourself?

When people ask you how you’re doing, you can’t just shout, “HORRIBLE! PLEASE HELP ME! I NEED HELP!!”

This pain is wearing me down. It’s getting to me. And I can see it happening. And I don’t know what to do about it.

I don’t understand it. I don’t know where God is in this.

All I know is that I hate it. I hate all of it.

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