That's my new name. I don't expect to be on everyone's top priority list but I don't think I deserve to be completely ignored either. I'm sick and tired of helping everyone else when I can't even help myself. And I don't ask others to help me because every time I do that I just get the typical "oh you're beautiful" "any guy would be lucky to have you" "you're a good person" and I smile and say thanks while I continue to fade away. I feel so dead inside. Like I'm a corpse walking around living the life of Gabriella. Like I'm not controlling myself. The only time I find release is when I'm under the influence of anything. And I mean anything. It can be a simple cigarette to 10 shots of whiskey. I don't know how much longer I can carry on. I never thought I would think suicide. But right now my Suicide List is looking better and better.
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My collections
Non-FictionJust a little diary I suppose. I honestly don't expect people to even read this so....
