Me After 9 Shots (I'm Not Used To Any Drinking Over 2 Shots), Sliding On The Bed And Being Like "ooppss!"

Me after 9 shots (I'm not used to any drinking over 2 shots), sliding on the bed and being like "ooppss!"

Really I was saying "ops" whenever I slid on the sheets

I am surprised that I am not addicted from cigarettes yet like I would be smoking five a day for a week or so and then have two months break....and the circle repeats itself

And there is no evidence of addiction at all ....

Trying to keep someone alive through someone else's chat is hard....

Especially when you need someone who will try as hard as you do ...

I don't want to get better i don't want to get better i don't want to get better i don't want to get better i don't want to get better i don't want to get better i don't want to get better i don't want to get better i don't want to get better i don't want to get better i don't want to get better i don't want to get better i don't want to get better i don't want to get better i don't want to get better

⚠️Tw suicide/selfharm mention/vent⚠️

I am thinking about suicide again

I wanna die because.....

Why I wanna die ?

Maybe just because....

Maybe because I am useless

Maybe because I am not worthy

Maybe because I am not enough

Because I am nothing

Because I don't deserve to live....

I don't deserve to be loved, to love, to exist....

I am nothing and no one ever would love someone like me so why live if anyways I end up dead...

Why live if anyways I be annoying, useless, not worthy, not enough....

No one cares if I am alive or dead ....

No one cares if my arms are covered in cuts and scars....

As long as I have good grades

As long as people see me as a kind, good and clever person ....

No one cares and no one will .....

If so then why live ?

Why suffer so much when you can die

Why be alive and be called a problem

I don't want to live

I don't want to be alive

I want to die

To disappear and never come back

While I was working in the stable I was wearing T-Shirts and my scars were visible.

And one day one girl asked "what happened to your arms ?"

I shot a glance at my scars, shook my head and said "Nah, that's nothing."

Then she added "You got scratched pretty bad."

"Yeah." I answered and that's were our conversation about my scars finished