Johndave- depression

Part two

When I arrive home I try to take my mind off everything by eating, but I have no appetite, instead I go lay on the couch belly down, face buried into a pillow *sighs* I can feel them, I can feel the thoughts that scary me most start to creep into my head. I tried to push them out long ago, but over time I've learned it doesn't help and only makes things worse. Why am I depressed, I have a roof over my head, food to eat, money to spend, a friend, I am privileged I dont deserve to feel like this, I I'm a self loathing little brat. I pull myself off the pillow taking a huge breath of air, oxygen entering my system again. I pull myself off the couch and head to the kitchen pulling out a pen and a piece of nice paper I proceed to write a note. Addressed to non other the john, I have no one else who would care. I write
"dear john,
I'm sorry but..."
Like I have so many times before but when I'm finish with this one I don't crumple it up and throw it away like usual. John won't be back for a couple of hours, I can finally get this over with I can stop the pounding painful thoughts that always claw their way into my mind. I've always wanted to go out in the least messy possible. I think what I can do. Exhaust fumes? No I don't have a car, pills? No I don't know how many I need to take I don't want to wake up in a hospital, I've always feared choking so that out of the question, I guess the only thing I can do is the one I am so comfortable with, my blade, though it will be messy. I doodle a bit on the note I wrote for john before sticking it into an envelope, sealing and writing his name on the top.
I leave the note on he kitchen counter where I know john will find it, I then head over the the bathroom and run a bath as hot as I can get it, once it's full I strip and get in. The water burns my skin but pain is the only thing I can feel anymore so it's nice to feel something.Realising I left my blade in my pocket I get up to grab it, the sudden movement making my skin burn more causing me to wince. As I rummage through my jacket my ring finger catches the blade "oh fuck" i wrap my fingers around the blade careful not to cut myself again,well what does it really matter I'll be doing it anyway. I look at my reflection in the steel blood dotted blade "I'm so fucking pathetic" I mutter to my self while taking my wrist out of the water and resting the sharp end of the blade on top of a large vein. Taking a deep breath I push down and pull it across my wrist, cutting so deep I must have hit something and I scream but when the initial shock passes I feel nothing and numbness sets in I do the same to the other wrist which I slightly harder due to the Pain from the first cut, I let my hands fall into the water watching as the bath turns red with blood the hot water stopping any clotting and letting me bleed out, I cut so deep that only after a few minutes I feel my vision going black and right before I feel I am going to slip out of it I hear "hey dave I'm back, the pizza place was closed today so we can eat together... Dave?"