Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Every night, I go home, and I think about ending myself. You're not suppose to say that but its true and I'm so tired of pretending I'm okay. During the day, I can keep busy. Study for the GRE. Fill out applications. Write personal statements. Pretend I believe there is a light at the end of the tunnel. But, I think, I've given up on lights. Depression and His Total and Utter rejection stamped it out of me. I am so dangerously close to wanting nothing now. Its not about the tears and hysteria. That passed long ago. Now, its methodical, rational even. Why bother?