I can’t find any real meaning to my life. I really can’t think of any reasons to live. Why not take my life? There are not very many people who would miss me. I’m sure a handful of people would gather for the service and say, “Oh, that’s too bad.” or “I just don’t understand.” No one really gives a shit; they never have. Probably never will if I choose to live. I imagine I would struggle, poor and with what little beauty I have left would fade. My kids would hate me and I die sad and alone. The same way I came into the world.
I can’t lie and say I haven’t had blessings but I gave it all away in search of securing love, I suppose.
I always asked myself, “what’s wrong with me?” I guess no one would know if they were the problem. I must be. I tried so hard with my husband and that failed. I tried so hard with my parents and siblings and failed again. They just used me until I had nothing to give, then left me alone in the world.
Does it matter I’m scared and suicidal. Why haven’t I gotten the courage to just end it all. I feel weak and full of shit. I’m thinking this next time I’ll make sure I don’t wake up. I wonder if they will shave my head and sell my hear or bury me in a card board box never worth loving, too afraid to die, needle in arm, sitting on the bathroom floor crying. Spirits so broken I just need a little hand. Hoping this shot will take me to another land.
My joke of an existence, living day and night alone and scared. I would tell someone if I could find someone who gave a shit. So ready to say fuck it and just quit.
(Editors note: No worries. We care, and Samantha’s getting help.)