Thinking about the fact that the only time I was ever heard was when I was in the psych unit after my suicide attempt…and not a moment before nor after.

I felt at peace while in the crisis unit. Being there felt like the safe, comforting motherly hug I’d never received.

I was born alone and I will die alone. That is all I need to know.

Choking on the words I’ll never say

All the things I never said. All the things I never said. Spinning circles in my head. Spinning circles in my head.

How am I supposed to be a good mother when I’ve never known a good mother?

Opening the liquor cabinet and telling myself I’m only drinking all this alcohol so that my dad won’t.

The reasons why I’m still here are fading away more and more each day. Once they’re gone and I’ve seen as much of the world as I want, I’m out of here. There is no purpose to this existence. There never was and there never will be.

The curiosity of the future is not enough to overcome the devastation of today.

I tell myself I’m only pushing them away so that it will be easier on them when I’m gone. And I will be gone.

He will be the hardest to let go.

He deserves better than me. He always has. He deserves the world. Maybe someday he’ll forgive me. Maybe someday he’ll realize I did him a favor.