Can someone tell me why it hurts so much? Why do I feel like a part of me is being ripped out when my “Friends” are laughing, making jokes, hugging, and walking in a little group like the ones I see in movies? I know why. It’s because I am the “friend” who is watching it happen from behind. I am the “friend” walking behind the giggling posse. I am the one observing the “happy people”.

Can someone tell me why it hurts so much? Why is it that my skin craves the pain that the blade so willingly provides? I know why. It’s because I see the pain as control. I see the pain as release. I see the pain as a coping mechanism. It hurts, and so the pain registers. It reminds me that I am not completely numb yet.

 

Can someone tell me why it hurts so much? Why do I calm down at the though of jumping of what I call, “my suicide bridge”? Why am I more relaxed when I think of my plan to jump off of the entrance bridge to the highway that is a 5 minute walk away from my house? I know why. I know if I’m dead then I won’t feel the pain that I say I crave.

But I Crave Death More

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