No one I know in person reads this, so I will say that which I never would.
I have never contemplated suicide for as long and as consistently as I have at present.
Even on the best days, the idea burns constantly behind my eyes,
And today is not the best of days.
It lingers behind every conversation, every smile, every joke I make.
I don't want to die, but I sure don't want to live.
I'm on a wait list to see a therapist. I've waited a month. Can I wait longer?
Every week, I meet with these Christians; high pressure car salesmen for God.
They tell me my problem is that I'm doing this alone.
That I've never experienced "real Christian love and community."
Maybe they are right. How would I know? What difference does it ultimately make?
I have tried to kill myself three times, in each instance my last words would have been a prayer.
"Jesus, please. I am so lonely, so tired, so worthless...please help me."
Some might say that because I am still alive, God heard me.
I say that I am just a coward, too afraid to follow through.
A coward with no God and little hope.
I used to pray for help, now I just pray for courage.
12:44 p.m. - 2014-04-23
Recent entries:
Awake in My Tiny Cage - 2014-11-03
God. - 2014-10-27
I remember me. - 2014-10-17
The Paper - 2014-10-13
A Post About Not Doing Anything - 2014-10-12
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