The path towards self destruction seems excusable and ultimately, inevitable. Who am I really… I’m a god damn mess… I’m far from being capable of anything. I want to try but I’m slowly suffocating myself in my own misery. I’ve told more people in the last month than I have in the last 4 years, but it isn’t improving my condition. Before, my depression would follow a 2-3 month cycle, but as of late, I’ve been having more and more severe episodes. Not to mention my reoccurring nightmares are becoming more graphic and devastating, as well as becoming more frequent. I’m drowning in this world. I’m upset for no reason particular reason and I spent a half an hour in the shower crying and curled up in the corner. I just stayed there crying; listening to my heart beat and watching water bead up and form trails as it trickles down my legs. Everyone is so much stronger than me… What kind of person am I really? I give advice to others but I can’t even swallow it when it applies to me. I’ve wrecked this vessel where a soul once housed itself in. I’ve torn and stretched muscles, broken bones, and continue to worsen my health by eating poorly. I cut myself and watch the blood run down my arms seemingly endlessly. I’m just an empty vessel… soulless… incapable of anything. It’s useless… I try and try to whatever end… I’m a terrible person. I pretend to be happy and laugh with those who care about me. I O’d last year on pills and ended up with liver poisoning while giving advice to a friend whom I treat and call my brother. I try so hard yet those who say they love me… just end up using me as a tool to achieve their own goals. I get tossed aside constantly because I’m a fool. I fall in love easily with those who show an interest. I cling desperately to those who befriend me when all they wanted is to be polite. I try so hard in this world just to end up as some one’s puppet. I know I’m getting screwed over at times, yet I still lie to myself to just indulge for a bit longer in that fantasy. Maybe, I’m bound to this fate of suffering… to live and die alone. I’m flawed in character… in all aspects. All I can think about is when will I die. What kind of human would wish for cancer for 3 years or pray that he be involved in a horrific car accident. I think I prefer to bleed out slowly… die an agonizing death. All I really know is pain in life. It has driven my life this far and I am unsure how much more I can take. I’m a fucking mess… I don’t know who I am or where I’m going anymore. I want to die… Please… someone… snuff this insignificant human out of existence. Set me free from all this torment.

Watching the blood flow and pump out of these wounds makes me only want to cut deeper into the flesh…  I’m sorry Aya…