I'm slowly drifting away to the arms of a feared man named death. The tears I am shedding are heavy they have never done that. Isn't it sad how a troubled guy like me can set all his problems aside to help other & give them advice but is to weak to help himself. If anyone does bother to read this I say to you "Welcome to my dark troubled & twisted mind." As I feel my time to reflect is ending I feel weary & physically weak but also emotionally strong but my pride will only let me show the weak. I'm different. I'm less troubled but still twisted. I'm a sick man... I am a spiteful man & I utterly enjoy it as twisted as it sounds but in reality this is a desperate cry for help... A help I won't receive because I'm too coward to accept it. Sitting here I contemplate will help actually help me or just make it worse? Will I be missed if I do pull off a cowardly act? Will it affect many or few. I wish I knew the answer but in time the answers will come until then I am strong yet weak. I end of with whatever you're going through will subside I believe in you. Yet I still have no confidence I'll beat my depression. Help me please.
End....... For now.
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The reality of being a depressed teen
Novela JuvenilA life of struggle, depression & suicide.... Our story. More stories coming out
