And on the way home I kept thinking of how I should jump off a building. I crawled onto the railing on the bridge (not high at all, would barely hurt me, don't worry) to imagine what it'd be like, standing there.

All my instincts are telling me to die. No psychosis, all me this time. I'm better off dead. There's no hope for me in this life. It's all meaningless.

I want to overdose. I won't though, probably. I won't jump either. I'm a coward.