whats the point of living anyway? survival? im not living anymore. im just surviving and i hate it. i make it through the day tired as fuck because of these two narcotics. isabelle takes every chance she can to make me feel guilty for terminating our super unhealthy friendship. i dont want to deal with it anymore! no more anxiety, no more crying, no more pain, no more tiredness. nothing. i had a plan but my mom got rid of all the dangerous stuff in the house so im basically stuck. the other night i sobbed on the bathroom floor because i couldnt find something to kill myself with. i wish i didnt have to deal with this. nothing is getting better for me.