I was contemplating suicide, it still exists in the back of my head. A lot of days I have to fight with myself to keep me from cutting myself. The cutting would silence the voices in my head. Sometimes I think I was doing the cutting as practice for cutting my wrists. Every night I wish it to be my last night breathing. I pray to God every night that he will make it my last. Now on Sundays when I go up for communion I ask God to end this life I call living hell. The only good thing about going to work is helps quiet my mind or at least slows down my negative thoughts.
I'm still here and I can't figure out why I haven't gone ahead and put an end to my miserable existence.
Friends say I've got to stay around for them. Don't they see how all this is tearing me apart. When asked, I say well I'm breathing or I'm alive and then under my breath I say, I don't have a life or I'm not living. I'm convinced it will happen one day, because I can't see any hope or future. Without any dreams or possibility of a future, I don't care to go on.
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A/N:
Well thanks for reading. I'll end my thoughts with: Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, While I sleep I pray the Lord my soul and life to take.
Good night everyone.
YOU ARE READING
The things I think of when I'm alone
PoetryUnbearable pain that is expressed and acknowledged becomes bearable. But people who have suffered from BPD received no such responses in their childhood. Therefore, they are stuck in the past, trying to elicit what they needed as a child-validation...
