This is non-thinspo related. The haunts of suicide are back. I got high. I'm thinking getting high and drinking are going to be things of the past. The get me to the root of my depressive disorder. To the bad place. Stupid what's his face got his live-in pregnant. That chapter of my life has now been forever sealed. Strange. Weird. Unfair. I am an angry child kicking and screaming and drowning in an overwhelming helplessness... It's out of my control and the thoughts makes me lose my breath and anixety ensues. Hyper-ventilate. My heart hurts. My breath can't be caught. I will my heart to stop beating. My body won't do what I want it too... I am lost in this helplessness... Drowning. I see the surface, where I had control growing farther away and the world grows darker... the oxygen in my lungs is no good and I am ruined.
The suicide is near. The want. The plot. The deep hate of my life. The deep hate of this body. I will punish it tomorrow. God grant me the will to awake and punish this gross fat thing. It all comes back to this... if I was beautiful I would not hate me so. Leaves and vitamins. All I will consume. Kill me quicker, sweet nicotine. Alcohol poison these veins oh please luscious Vicodin numb out all else. Ambien drive me to sleep, and let all my liquids powders and pills seep into the blood and thicken it muddy... I'd take death over this any and every day.
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