what the **** am i supposed to do i feel so empty the thought of trying to pick up the pieces i’ve scattered around me makes me sick my stomach aches with self hatred and guilt and not anything that i can think of can make it go away in all honesty i would be better off killing myself. that sounds like a better option than getting high or getting help or getting ****** than any of it. maybe tonight that’s what i’m supposed to do.
end it all.
i wrote this the night i shot up **** for the first time