Reasons Why

Right now? I don't think I can give any valid reason why I tried to kill myself. It's a rush then and there, and it must be satisfied or extinguished. I don't get to choose when it comes or how it goes. I just know, I don't like it and I wish it would go away. I'm afraid of it coming back. Anxiety starts it, but it's never the only thing. All my little problems, I can deal with it one at a time, but then somewhere, somehow, things start slipping and I crash. Or precisely I suffocate.

I know I won't stop trying. The allure of it being the one thing that will make everything better will never go away. I can't tell anyone that. I can't talk to anyone about it. Because it's too depressing. And you know what? The more I talk about it, the less I need it. But that's how everything is for me. Once I can get it out of my system, I hardly look back. But that's asking way too much of people to just deal with it. I'm always asking too much of people.

People. It's partly them. I wish I could not blame them for it. But it's partially their fault. As much as it is my own for letting people, who could really care less for me, get to me so personally. They're off living their lives and for some reason I thought I could be...a part of it. Wanted, I guess. But that's been the theme of my life so far. Lol, in elementary school they used to call me the Unwanted One. I'll never forget that. I'll never forget a lot of things.

I did it-
because I was tired of talking about. I wanted to prove to myself I could do it. Just how badly did I want it? Enough to try it. Enough to hurt myself because I thought(and still think) I deserved it.
Why did I reach out?
Because I had to say something, so it wouldn't be a surprise. It might as well have been my way of saying good-bye. But I know I wanted help. That I didn't want to just be snuffed out by a handful of pills.

The finality of all, of making the decision, that was...off.