I laid exhausted on my bunk at a long and painful day. I lay here contemplating why I'm alive and what the heck I'm supposed to do. I feel broken, defeated, and ready to call it quits on life. I can't seem to get out of this hole I'm in. It's my fault, that I'm in this hole and I keep trying to get out but feel discouraged when I try. Sometimes I think it would have been better if I had been a still born and let someone else have my life. I look over at the gun on the nightstand. No, as much as I would like to suicide ain't the answer. But what is the answer? What is all of this for? I can't seem to do anything right, so why? I ask God and myself that. I feel lost and broken. Tears slip quietly down my face as I lay there. Should I hold on or let go?
