I was doing so good. I liked myself, i was happy with my life. Sure i had down weeks but i fought past them. But congratulations. Everyone got what they wanted. I hate myself. I hate my body, my personality, my life. I just hate everything to do with me. Everytime I drive I think of crashing. Going fast enough to kill myself. The angle, the turn. It runs through my head. But no innocent deserves to go with me. I think of the pills sitting next to me. Of taking them and just sleeping and not waking up. But my family doesnt deserve to find me like that. I think of hurting myself again, but i dont for the fear of how addictive it gets. One cut, and I know I’d be hooked again. I keep trying and trying to look at the positive, but all I get is negatives… Congratulations to everyone who wanted this. Youve got it. I hate myself.