I feel as empty as a alcoholics bottle, they say time will heal all wounds but my wounds are diseases. Staring blankly at a wall contemplating life or death, wondering what this life has left to offer me because all I see is nothing. My depression has taken over my body it has consumed me completely and I’m okay with that. I’m okay with dying now, they say suicide doesn’t end the pain it just passes it to someone else, but I’m okay with that now.
Nobody cares until it’s too late to be there, then they cry because they lost a beautiful soul saying they didn’t know. Well that’s a lie they did know they just didn’t say anything because they thought it was for attention. Well let me tell you something do you think I want to **** myself  for attention no because once you’re dead people will forget about you they will use past tense to describe you for a week if you’re lucky. You’ll have your fifteen seconds of fame I promise you that but once you’re buried so are the memories. I don’t want to die because of attention, I want to die because this is a ****** world we live in.
I have a question, Do you notice my absence or miss me when I’m sick? If I die will you come to my funeral or will you stay at home? Do you know anything about me or what kind of things affect me? Can you tell me how long I’ve been depressed or how many times suicide has crossed my mind?
Depression is my disease depression will soon be the end of me and trust me I won’t live as long as God wants me to. Depression has consumed me and this is my goodbye to you all so you know how I die, By the hands of suicide.