Theyre getting more intense. They keep telling me the same thing. To Just end it. Just end it. I don't wanna be here anymore. I don't mean here as in, this house, or this city. I don't want to be here, alive. I don't want to breathe. I don't want to wake up tomorrow. I don't want to eat. I don't want to sleep. I want to die. Why are these thoughts consuming me more and more? I was fine. I was dealing with it. Now its 4 pm and i have to get ready in 20 minutes for prom, but I'm lying in bed crying and shaking and trying so hard not to relapse or kill myself. Why am i trying to stop? Whats the point.
