in the past week I've had 2 pills. I need one every day. I'm actually going though physical withdrawal right now sweating uncontrollably, shivering, hot and cold all at once. My mental state is not doing any better either. I can't get the vision of that exacto knife tearing though my wrist out of my mind for longer than a few seconds at a time. My heart feels like it's rotting in my chest and the necrotic flesh is poisoning the surroundings, spreading painfully but unrelenting. A while back I started up my livejournal again. It felt better to get somethings down on paper but no one cares. No one reads. No one leaves a message. The last 12 hours or so I've felt like I'm screaming inside just for anyone to hear but I only see the echo of unread words on my screen. I have been without a real life friend for the better part of 2 years now. I did have one significant other, long distance for a short time. For that I am greatful, in a way. Cleche or not I did finally learn what love was from meeting her. Found at age 28... I think... gosh I don't even know how old I am any more and I don't care to do the math. The worst part is that I feel like at best this is a stop gap for me. I won't find what I really need here. A friend that won't leave me. I'm too embarrassed with who I am and what my life is to even dare trying to find a friend never mind someone I could love and more importantly could love me. I want my suffering to end. I wish it would end. I hate this endless cycle of despair. Someone just do what I haven't had the courage to do yet and kill me. End it and finally let my relief come. The blackness of the obis scares me but maybe there is salvation for my torchered soul. There is a chance, I know I've been happy at least once recently in my dreams. Could death be much different than my dreams? Let it end.