Drowning with purpose? Or purposely drowning?

Cruel ideas

Merediths POV:

I turn to face the clock 4:53am it blinked. I couldn't sleep all these thoughts rushed through my head. "What if my mother was right, that I couldn't do anything with my life. I was worthless. What's the points of just being ordinary if I can never change"I was unsure what to do I couldn't wake Derek that would be unfair to wake him before his 6am alarm. So I just sat up tears rolling down my pale cheeks just staring, staring at the uneven yellow wall like nothing good in my life had ever occurred. I snapped out of it unsure of how long I hand been staring restlessly .by this time the clock was now blinking 5:41 am. I scuttled down the bed giving Derek a warm kiss and I got up, he still lay unshaken by my movements. I walked across the wooden hall floor and into the bathroom. Unziping my mother old first aid kit and pulling out the scalpel, I looked down at the shiny blade whimpering at the thought of putting everyone at ease with just one deep cut upon both writs. She flipped the 10-blade over to notice it was stained red, crimson red, the colour of cold blood.it was the "weapon" her mother had used the night she had slit her wrists open, forcing her small fragile daughter to watch as she collapsed in a pool of her own blood. Meredith could remember this very vividly, the horrifying screams, the sound of the blood dripping on the hard oak kitchen floor too the ambulance sirens saving her mother after her failed attempt. She put the blade down, she didn't want to be like her mother, failure was just somthing she wasn't willing to prove she was, it would of added to the list,instead she reached over turning the stiff tap of the bath tub. She had an idea and idea she thought wasn't going to let her down like her mothers did.