It’s disheartening and debilitating to come to the realisation that yes...

I want to die


Or...


At the very least hurt myself severely.

And I am ashamed.
Terrified.
Sick to my stomach because that thought should never cross my mind
But I’m stuck here day in and day out
With it dancing across my frontal lobe taunting me.
‘Dying would be a delight’.

Impenetrable prison bars line my serotonin and dopamine deprived brain.
And the straight jacket I’m in steals my ability to break my bones to drown out the silence.

‘I always wanna die. I always wanna die’.