2004-01-24 03:52:40 (UTC)

Don't You Worry

i was sitting at work yesterday, where I listen to
headphones and type for ten hours a day, and for the last
three hours that I was there I was thinking about suicide.
It was really random and out of the blue, actually. I'm not
a miserable person. I don't want to kill myself because I
can't take the pain of this life, I don't even want to kill
myself at all. It just occurred to me that maybe all of
this is more hassle than it's worth. My life hasn't been
unbearable by any means. I've had many happy moments, but
that's all they've ever been. Just moments. The rest has
been a huge pain in the ass, one irritating, frustrating,
aggravating, infuriating mishap after another. It just
feels as though the good hasn't outweighed the bad. It
hasn't even come close. I'm saying all this at twenty-one
years old. From here on, it only gets more stressful. I'm
only going to have more responsibilities, more chances to
fuck up, more people to hurt, and maybe a few more fleeting
moments of happiness that last just long enough to make me
hurt that much worse once they disappear. I know people say
that suicide victims are selfish, lazy or cowardly. I admit
that I may be a coward, and I may be lazy. But I am not
selfish, that is one thing I know I've never been. I know
there are people in this world that care about me and will
be sad if I were dead, and I would be very sorry to ever
hurt them. I've always believed that we're here to love
people, to form relationships, and have good times with
those people. However, I have come to the conclusion that
love only causes hurt, or at least in my case. The people
you love always hurt you, or leave you, or don't treat you
the way you deserve to be treated, or don't love you back
at all. For some reason, completely unintentionally I have
managed to hurt every person that actually did everything
right. Those that stuck by me, that loved me, that made me
feel special and appreciated, ended up getting hurt by me.
I don't know why. The last thing that I ever wanted to do
in a million years was hurt anyone, and I'm racked with
guilt over the people I have wronged. They know who they
are. I don't want to name them in case of the weird
coincidence that someone I know might read this. Some of
them don't even know they've been wronged by me, and that
makes me feel worse, but I'm too much of a coward to come
clean. I would rather live with my own agonizing giult than
lose another person I care about. This wasn't supposed to
come out this way. I sound pathetic. In actuality, I can't
stand myself. The one thing I used to be proud of myself
for was that I was strong. I always felt like I could
handle anything, dust myself off and keep going. I'm
starting to realize that I don't even have that going for
me. I'm going to stop typing now because I'm getting more
mad at myself with every word. I'm not going to kill myself
tonight, I probably never will because I'm too much of a
coward. I just know that this is how I feel, and this is
how it all makes sense to me. My greates failure yet,
knowing the one thing that could shut me up for good and
not being able to do it. Is it cowardice, or too much
common sense? I don't really know.