There are a million things I want to say to you. A million things I don't know how to put into words. I'm getting tired of living without a purpose. I'm getting tired of all the screaming in my head. There are things I never should have said. Secrets I never should have given voice to. There is so much I wish I could take back. So many actions, thoughts and wishes I would never have done if I knew the things that I know now. Because what I know now is that no one cares beyond what necessity or duty compel them to. Not even me.
Selbstmord. The deliberate killing of oneself. Do you have any idea what it is like to wake up day after day, week after week with images of your own death? Or if it is not your death you dream of, it is the death of someone else. Someone you know in your waking life. Someone you dreamed up. It doesn't matter. Every instance is gut wrenching. At least at first. After that, it becomes disturbing. Then...annoying. And suddenly, it's a part of your everyday life. But, your subconscious won't give up there. It starts to mix in more "regular" dreams, or dreams that are just as screwed up as dreams of death, in with your death dreams. So that every time you sleep your mind becomes more confused, your reality becomes more distorted and always you feel like crying. I did not scream aloud when I was raped or sexually assaulted. I did not scream when my fingers were slammed in a car door. I do not scream. I do not cry loudly. I scream and cry in silence. Because no one cares. Not even me.
