I hate myself so much. So much to the point I think that jumping off from a building is the better option than living. To the point that I think, slit my own throat is better than trying to live and survive another day. To the point where I feel like those pills is so tempting for mw to take rather than try to act and pretend everything was and is okay. Yet I know for a fact, when I tell this to someone, when I share what I have been feeling inside, whats going on in my head, thoughts that run mile speed..theyll just say Im being over reacting, overdramatic or being sensitive. Telling me what I ever I feel inside is invalid. Slowly I start to believe that. Maybe I am over reacting, hence why I choose to keep it shut although it hurts. And maybe I am being overdramatic hence I choose to act alright no matter what. And maybe I am just being sensitive, hence why I suck it all up and just move on. I dont even know why Im sharing this here. Guess I am that lonely. Maybe thats why death is my companion..
