...and Then She Returned To Reality...When I sit in a car I tend to imagine several ways to die in it. Like; a truck driving too fast gets out of control and crushes the car. And sometimes I actually wish I had some sort of cancer that would make me suffer and make me fade away (no disrespect intended for surviviors!). I want to make me hurt, and I want to hurt my family.
It's not because it's some kind of fetich or something. I just feel like I, and the most of my family, deserve it. All of the pain my death would cause.
I've done things I'm not proud of - horrible things. And so has many of my family members. Especially my parents. They deserve the pain of my departure, and more!
Three times (three!) I've been on the edge of suicide. I've sat and held a meatknife against my wrist and thought; "I could end it all now. Embrace the wonderful cooling sea of nothingness and FINALLY get peace. I could finally not exist." It's like I've been waiting, all of my seventeen years of life, to die. And even the thought of that kind of unending peace makes me smile and sometimes cry of happiness. The thought of it actually makes my heart lighter. Relief washes through my body and I feel all of the weight coming off of my shoulders. I feel free and careless whenever I think of it.
But then I think; "It's bad now - but what about tomorrow? What if this is the last night of the nightmare, and everything turns in a better direction starting tomorrow? I could always end it all later in life, and see what life has in store for me. What if, someday, I'm rewarded with the blessing of true love (not some fake and halfhearted demo of it) by some unknown god or creature that has watched over me?"
And at the exact moment I decide to live, I feel the world weighing on my shoulders once again. I feel it crushing my heart, like someone crushing the air out of your lungs, and making it impossible to breathe. I feel heavy once again - almost like my body had defied gravity in my moment of relief.