I’m slipping…

Thanks to a dumb English paper, I got three and a half hours of sleep last night, and I’ve been running around most of today, and yesterday. I’ve had two tests already this week, with another one on Friday, and then a whole weekend on a retreat with Cru, as part of the planning team. None of that says anything about the relational issues going on around me, in my group of friends, any of the homework I have to do, or working tomorrow or Friday. I don’t know what to say when people ask questions, I don’t know how to take care of myself, to get enough sleep or eat well, anything.

Today, I was walking home alone in the dark, crying, and the thought crossed my mind: Maybe I should just swallow all the pills I can find in the apartment and get it over-with now.

I thought about suicide, realized I was thinking about it, and let the train of thought continue. The more I thought, the more I cried, and the better the idea sounded. I decided that no matter when I go, I’m going to die alone, and if I were to end things now, I could guess that at least my roommates and my family would come to the funeral. If I keep drawing things out, the approximate number of people who would care dwindles.

What’s worse, I have the means. Yes, I gave Ryan my razor blades, but I know where to get more, and I know that he’s got his own set of issues to deal with. All I would have to do is remind myself of how much I get in the way, hop on a bus to the store, and I would have another package of steel, sharp and ready for use. In the medicine drawer, between the four girls living in my apartment, I’m sure I could find enough pills with a large enough variety to do damage I can’t turn back.

I told God that I wanted to die, and I didn’t hear anything… I feel like I’m falling away from my friends, falling away from my faith, starting to lose my mind more quickly every day. I am so tired, so lonely, and so unbelievably scared, that I can barely concentrate enough to finish this sentence…

I don’t know what I’m going to do.