Book of Suicide
2004-01-20 18:30:00 (UTC)

J 12/25/03

7:35 pm

it's difficult to view something you'll never have. i see
families whose holidays are full of mirth, while mine feel
so empty and bitter. i see joyous smiles and vibrant eyes
in others while mine feel dim and weary. unlike those who
count the moments until Christmas, i count the lagging
moments until it's over. i don't like feeling this way
about things, but it is even worse when someone is always
harping at me about something and i'm never entitled to my
solitude, wants, or needs; it's always about her, and what
she wants, when she wants it. my stomach is churning
unbearably and my heart feels even more battered and
weathered as it waits for the imminent storm. i'm waiting
for the yells that i know are soon to come. every moment
is a struggle with madness. when will i be permitted peace?

11:26 pm

i've made a gash about an inch long vertically on my
wrist. i've smeared the blood along my arm like war
paint. i can't stop crying. the flow of blood is roaring
in my ears. i feel so feeble, so broken, so alone. i've
thought about going all the way with this, but i have to
see Rachel at least one more time before i do. she's the
only reason i don't do, and haven't done, it. i'm not sure
if she really understands the fact that that's why i
continue to wake up in the morning. she's always believed
in me and given me support. everytime i think of the
reality that she could be dead right now, i just start
sobbing. again, i surrender in the fruitless hope that
tomorrow will be okay. i love you Rae, though you can't
hear me right now. goodnight, and may tomorrow be easier
and less painful. however, tomorrow may be perfect, but it
will never be. i hope my spirit reaches Rachel's and
comforts her as hers does mine. i'm afraid to be alone...