Did I scare you with my last post? Was I too bitter? Did it hurt?
I am hurting, I'm scared and very bitter. This life is mine, my own, the only one. And I wanted to end it. It's true. I was so sad when I wrote the last time, but I was too scared to be honest about it.
I'm honest now. I've been to work yesterday and today and I feel fine. Well, not fine, but ok.
A few days ago I wasn't, I cried my eyes out and NO - I didn't feel sorry for myself. I wanted to die. That's not the same thing. It is scary, to feel that you want to die. Like there's no point in living.
If you don't understand, that's fine. If you do, thank God someone does!
I am not suicidal, I'm not walking around wanting to die. But I did feel that way Friday evening and all weekend. Not because I'm single and feel alone. It's not that simple.
I don't want to explain myself - but I do want to tell you. This is it.
I don't have a broken leg.
You can't fix me with a kind word and a smile.
I suffer from mental illness.
And yeah, that means some suffering sometimes...
Like many times before.
And many times to come.
And I'm still here.
I'm one of the toughest persons you've ever met. The stuff I've been through would make big men cry and wet themselves. I promise. So don't judge me.
Don't judge me for wanting to die sometimes.
I bet lots of you have thought about it as well. The thoughts in themselves aren't dangerous.
It's dangerous to pretend everything is so damn perfect!
Stop pretending people and start listening! Pay attention to the ones around you.
If you love someone, tell them before it's too late.