I don't know why I'm here or why I'm writing this. It feels pointless. My feelings feel pointless. I am pointless.

I donated blood yesterday. It's the first time I've done it in years because of all the poison pills I've been taking. I thought maybe it would make me feel better; helping someone else out. But now I feel like I shouldn't have. If my badness fills every cell in my body, then it obviously travels through my blood stream too. I don't want to contaminate another person, one who's already sick!

**TRIGGER FOR SUICIDAL THOUGHTS**
I saw a film about these people who are suicidal and try to jump off the same building on the same night (A Long Way Down). It was supposed to be uplifting. I guess I was looking for some kind of guidance on how to change my life around. That didn't happen. I don't know why these people didn't kill themselves. I still don't know why I didn't. Fear, I guess. Fear of the unknown; that death may be even worse than existing...idk

I'm not actively suicidal, just passively wishing things will be over soon. I keep thinking about and planning things that I'm probably never going to do/have. It feels like emotional self harm: deliberately thinking something painful and upsetting...

I don't even know why I'm bothering to type this rubbish out. I could easily delete it and this drivel will never exist. If only I could delete the feelings behind it so easily...or myself...

*Willow*