Thoughts

The fourth writing from two weeks before my suicide attempt over a year and a half ago.

I think too much.

Thoughts run through my head, a million thoughts are going through my head.

I think of him. I think of getting better. I think how there is no point. There’s no point in getting better if I’m just gonna be sad again. If I’m just going to die someday, whether by my hand, nature’s hand, or someone else’s hand.

There’s no point if I never feel the same feelings I felt for him for anyone else. All I want is to love and be loved. But, will this ever happen? Will I ever learn to love someone else? Will someone else love me, like I want to be loved? Or will this awful pattern of random sex, depression and drinking continue?

Only I can stop it, but do I want to? I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. I just want to give in and give up. F**k.