I've been in this place before. I've been here quite a few times, actually. It's the place where every breath I take, I curse it and hope it will just be my last. Every time I blink, I pray my eyes won't be able to open. And the more I fight it and force myself to do things, the worse the desire gets. Those things that remind me I'm alive, I hate them so damn much. I hate the fact that I'm even writing at the moment. I can't stand any of it and I'm still doing it.

You know, if MI was more physical, apparent and visual; not a single person would deny this suffering. In fact, I think if they saw it, when treatment didn't help, they'd agree that the individual should be put out of their suffering. A dignified death. An accepted death. People could finally let me ****ing go. It's not even that I blame any of them, I would/do the same things as them. I do it all of the time. I do not get upset that they want me to stay. I get upset because it doesn't change anything. It doesn't make all of the pain just disappear. It's still here, it's still constant suffering and it only grows worse because I feel so ****ing guilty for being this way.

My intrusive thoughts are here and loud. I know what they want me to do. I know what I want to do. And I can't make anything shut the hell up. I'm just having a really hard ****ing time right now.