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there you are. here i am.

if i died, right now, sitting in this chair, it would takes days for someone to even realize that i was missing.

thats reality.

i'm writing letters today. out of total desperation. i need help. i've tried for nearly a year to pull myself up.
it's finally too heavy to hold on my own.

i read an article about mental health. one of the main misconceptions about suicide is that people that threaten to kill themselves never do. 60% of people with verbal warnings follow through in the end.
i don't have the courage.
and i'm scared no one would miss me.
chris would be upset, but could go on about his life. he's dealt with so much death over these past few years, i would just be another casualty.
my mom still has my sister and brother.
my dad isn't affected by my presence, i'm sure he wouldn't be effected by my death.
and my friend have put me out of sight and out of mind.
i would be worried about my dogs. because no one would here to feed them. and no one could love them as much as me.
and that just further proves that i'm pathetically alone.

i've, for so long, flirted with the idea of vanishing. but i'm alone here. why would i be any happier being alone somewhere else?

and it's so unattractive.
i used to think that i was beautiful. imperfections and all. and now i get up in the morning and pinch my stomach and thighs, and spend the whole day fretting about exercising when i get off work even though i'm tired from my daily dose of benadryl.
help.
please help me.
i need some fucking help.

i get to see chris for 8 hours on may 23rd.
8 fucking hours. out of 2 months. we aren't even allowed to speak.
and i'm scared i'm going to spend all 8 of those hours thinking about short and shitty 8 fucking hours really is.

7:45 p.m. - 2008-05-14

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