I'm Glad I'm Not God
- Reads 114
- Votes 8
- Parts 6
Tagsautobiography
I'd never be good at writing a suicide note because I end up rambling and digressing. I'd just end up apologizing for everything I did instead of explaining why I committed the act. My mother would still be wondering why. But a part of that is we are completely different people and our brains work differently. And that's the only reasoning I can give. My brain is wired so I'm depressed and anxious and melancholy and bipolar. Five minutes ago I was being annoying and following my mother around, laughing all the while. And then she kicked me out of her room so I held the doorknob down so she couldn't lock me out. I ended up bending the door handle and I finally left with her screaming after me, "you RUINED my doorknob!" I refuse to cry though because then I'd get hysterical. I don't understand my body but I understand regret. That is an emotion I feel often. Like right now. I'm going to go and stare at a wall until I'm thoroughly contemplating suicide and then I'll go to sleep before I cry. I don't know why I'm this way but I am. But I'm just stuck in this cycle because I'd never actually commit suicide. Because I couldn't write the suicide note.
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