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I think about it, you know, suicide. Way too often maybe. But I just can’t help myself. I don’t feel like nobody loves me, but like nobody truly cares, like I am not relevant in anyone’s lives, so,why living? I am only 15 and already sick and tired of all this shit called life. I know I am way too young to be this broken and to have such a twisted mind. I don’t know if it’s depression or if Ijust a psycho you know, I can’t tell the difference, and it is just… I don’t know, my thoughts sometimes scare me; they’re not regular for what most of depressed people say. I hate myself more thananybody else in this world, I feel fake, used, hypocritical, manipulative. When I think about killing myself I don’t care about the future I will never get to experience and even less about the peoplearound me. My family? They complain about my serious face all the time, they have other kids in the family too, again, I am not relevant. My friends? I want them to suffer, I do. And I am a monster forthinking like that, but, I think they need to stop taking people for granted, I am always taken for granted, people know I’ll be there, that I will help them get through, but, who helps me? No one.And I don’t blame them because I don’t give them any clues about they way I am truly feeling. Sometimes it feels like I am not even me, like, there’s another person inside me. One side you’ve got theintolerant, loveable, quiet and kind fangirl everybody sees, and on the other side, you have this monster who thinks their friends should suffer the loss of a loved one. If I ever get the guts to do it,though, how will i? I mean, I will make sure I die, believe me, I will not be “the girl who tried to kill herself” I wouldn’t be able to cope with that. Trying to kill yourself and waking up still inthis world? Ugh, no, thanks. Maybe I can try to cut myself deep enough to pass out but knowing I will be found so that I will get help, but, again, people will talk, and I will have to explain, and...