i think i must bipolar. it must be contagious. either that or you are. i’ll settle for the latter. what have you done? what have you left behind? i was, i am, as damaged as you. did you realise that? the crippling has gone far beyond the foot. i feel infected. in my blood. in my head, i feel terminal. in my heart, i experience a very real breaking. i feel like… like…

the slightest thing triggers me off and then there is that chain of reactions that spiral me out of control. i cry relentlessly- i mean that literally. just weeping- unstoppably. its frightening. it feels like my heart breaks every day. it feels as though i am so splintered now, i’m in so many pieces and they are scattered all over the place so I can forget trying to put myself back together as one uninterrupted whole.

i think i will never happy completely. i don’t think i have ever known that is the right and true sense of the word.

i want to scream or make some noise; some terrible sound that shatters my life totally. and then step gingerly over the bits and walk into the bright white light that blinds me from pain of any kind, forever.

i just want to go home. not this home- not a brick-stone-walls-roof home. but HOME- that ultimate place. I will not kill myself. I just won’t do it. it is unfair. Its ungrateful and rude to god. but i ask him to please, please take me back. this has been some terrible mistake. my life, my being here has been a mistake- i took on too much. i though i’d be able make it but i am stumbling and falling, tripping and faltering so much i can barely stand long enough before i am down again.

And why do they call suicide ‘taking your own life’ when what you are doing is really giving it up? home, is a four letter word. all the best and worst things in life usually are. I’ll take half that. I’ll just take 2 letters. I want to GO. it has been enough.