I . . . God I don't even know how to start this.
I'm sorry I suppose
It's just, life is, it's too much.
I want to end it all so so bad that I can't even explain it.
I'm not going to commit suicide today tomorrow or possibly, hopefully even a year from now but I want to.
It's so hard, so fucking hard to keep going for the people who love you even if it feels like they don't.
I'm sorry.
I'm so so sorry.
I'm feeling ignored, invisible, as if I'm just here for nothing.
I feel like there's nothing to live for anymore.
I'm such a burden for everyone.
I'm sorry.
I'm so Done.
YOU ARE READING
Vent book
General FictionMe venting because I get in espresso depresso moods often. Sorry if you actually read this honestly. Imma sad boyo 24/7 oof.
