There She Goes Again

I tried to kill myself again. It took me this long to get these words on paper. I had to admit to myself the unfathomable. I tried to kill myself again.

I truly don’t mean to put myself in this position. I don’t mean to make my family panic as they let the words sink in “Lynsey is in the hospital again”. I don’t ever mean for it to hurt anybody, but I keep doing this. Over and over again.

How could i let myself get into that dark of a place? I know I don’t mean to hurt myself, but I keep doing it anyways. How could i feel so worthless and helpless that I would ever want to take foreign objects to my body, destroying it slowly cell by cell.

How could I want to posion myself with my own hand, swallowing my own despair with every extra medication my body tries to soak up. All i could think about was shutting it down from the inside out.

How could I feel so much, so suddenly. I need a person inside my mind with a yeild sign for my thoughts. A caution, road construction ahead sign warning my thoughts from the behaviors they are about to delve deep into.

I dont mean to feel this anxious. All I want to do is want to live. Why is it so hard to just allow myself to take up space? I am a tiny parasite feeding off of other peoples thoughts, or at least what i think they are thinking, allowing it to effect my every move

i make. What i eat. who i hang out with. what i think they want to say to me “Kill yourself, the world would be better off”.

I dont mean to think these things. I don’t want to go places and have the automatic scene play in my head

_It is a bright sunny day. The grass hasnt looked greener since this time last year. Colors so vibrant. Little kids laughing in the background while their parents meet for a softball game. Everyone joking around and having a good time. Socializing.

There i sit, alone in the car because I am too afraid to open the car door and open my mouth in fear of what will come out will reinforce the thoughts of being worthless to speak to.

A street light sits on the side of the road. I stare at it, hoping for it to put me out of my misery. to Reach over to me and pull me on top of it. To take the gun in the back of the car i forgot was there and hold myself hostage. Of course something dramatic, i have been

dramatic all my life. To hold the gun up to my temple and pull the trigger mumbling something about, “tell my family i love them. Tell them I am sorry for being that statistic that 1 out of 3 siblings will kill themself after they have lost a parent to suicide.”

I dont mean to be dramatic. I dont mean to cause a scene. Trust me, I want to make as little noise and cover as little dirt on this eart as possible. The best place for me resides 6 feet under. Not even, i dont even deserve my rotting carcuss to be present anywhere on this earth. Cremate me to

ashes and get rid of me all together.

I dont mean to try to kill myself. I just want the second life im living inside of my head to end so i can do business with physical existence.

If you are suicidal and start formulating plans in your head please reach out to someone. Text “connect” to 741741.

visit http://www.misunderstoodinsanity.com for posts that were published earlier from now. WordPress is a new concept for me . Stick with me here

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