Today is my birthday, and that sucks. Last year on my birthday I was just getting out of the hospital after a couple weeks…suicide attempt number I’ve-lost-track. It was a little more serious than some other tries, since I used an actual lethal method. But then I wussed out and took myself to the hospital or something, at this point I honestly don’t remember.
But the reason this birthday sucks is that between this birthday and last birthday, and that birthday and the one before…I’ve done absolutely nothing with my life. I’ve gone backwards. I flunked a semester of college and had to quit my job because I’m a shit worker.
Most importantly, I’ve been depressed. Steadily, without pause, for far longer than two years. And I don’t expect that I will ever not be depressed.
The reason this birthday sucks is that I should not be here. I should have allowed one of my many suicide attempts to work, and if none of them did, tried harder. I’m just wasting my life. Literally the only benefit I’m providing to the world is lowering my roommate’s rent payment. Otherwise, I’m just selfishly sucking resources. Maybe if I was happy and content, I would be fine with selfish sucking resources. But I’m not, so it seems rather pointless.
So here’s my promise, my vow, my determination: I will not see another birthday. No more. I refuse.
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