I am forcing myself to write tonight.
I am forcing myself to write because I want to kill myself and figure it's good to have a record of such things whenever the feeling comes up.
I am okay with publicly writing that I am presently suicidal because I know that I am not going to do anything about it.
I am not going to kill myself.
I can't. It would devastate my family. That's the only reason why I won't go through with my impulses right now.
Because frankly, I wish and pray for death.
I'm sure that I'll be embarrassed that I've written this out whenever it is that this feeling passes (and this feeling will pass. It always does), but right now, it's very much true. I want to kill myself. I could do it easily. I could do it quicker than I can write this sentence.
I'm not going to. But I wish my family could understand how much relief it would give me to do it.
Physically, I am exhausted and in more pain than I'd care to describe.
I have no insurance and even if I did, I know that there is no cure for what I have. This pain will only get worse with age.
And my eczema on my legs burns and itches all the time. There is never any relief for it.
That's not to mention my asthma or the fact that my teeth and my eyes need much more work than I'll be able to afford for some time.
And money, that's the big thing right now.
My phone and internet will soon be turned off because I can't afford to pay the bill.
I can barely afford to eat and certainly can't afford luxuries like replacing my shoes that are now more holes than shoe.
And this is with a job. A job where I work six days a week. I'm just not making any money there.
And this is all nothing new. This blog is full of the same story told ad nauseum.
I've been a failure at almost everything my entire adult life.
I have been dirt poor and sick and always in crisis.
I just don't want to barely survive anymore.
And I am digging my way out. I am going back to school. So in, what? Four to six years, I might be doing okay.
Until then, I am going to have to take a pay cut off of the salary that I already can't survive on and add a whole bunch more work.
What am I doing?
I just feel so broken. So defeated.
I honestly don't know how I will survive even the next few weeks.
I honestly don't want to.
But because of my family, I will survive.
They've left me with no other choice.
11:09 p.m. - 2012-12-23
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
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
i-lost-sarah
aryssa90
newschick
stardumb
hexes
gonzoprophet
meffinmisfit
cybers1ut
the-grey-one
movingsands
dangerspouse
unowhatilike
silverluna
elusive-you
tobehis
kenny-loo
brothasistas
my-rant
is-life
godsintimate
ruby--sky
creme-egg
darkly-blue
reevo
similar
dooki
dagkyo
obijuan
buddyboy5
u2october
nudeplatypus
mojo1915
baby--girl
cindylou03
alwaysinhim
greenstar7
krunkjazz
dudemanflab
spittingame