This is long and I appreciate anyone for reading it .. I'm sabotaging myself. It's funny and a million times so not funny .. I was always 'crazy' but my highs were fun and I hid my lows usually at home with a blade to my arm and a lot of sleep and tears by myself . But everybody loved the girl when she was normal or on a massive high . Because that girl ... She got them in places and was fun and the life of the party. That girl Still considered <mod edit - methods> .. But I was doing it in a mini skirt and cute heels so we could laugh it off and let it go .. Even through my crazy .. My highs , my lows .. My everything.. I functioned .. I was a high functioning bipolar who got raped and went to school the next day.. I aced classes .. I had friends and had a child who I took care of and everyone thought my life was fuckin wonderful! My dad <mod edit - methods> when I was 6 .. That wasn't suppose to damage me tho .. I barely knew him .. And we'll clearly he had no care or desire to know me . My mother. .. The only emotion she knows is cold .. You can get frost bite near her .. Granted she's had two husbands die before she was 30 another divorce and now another marriage .. All that and I'll tell you not once love ! At some point I knew I'd run out of steam .. My original plan was always to kill myself like my father .. But I got pregnant .. And even tho. I lived my 20s half crazy and half Suzy homemaker in the back of my head I still pretended I got to check out at 30 just like him .. 30 came .. Funny thing .. I got MRSA and almost died .. I lived and knew I couldn't kill my self and maybe I expected magic and sparkles and butterflies .. And a reward .. Instead I did die .. Not in the buried and gone sense but in every other way .. My depression has gotten worse .. I constantly think about death and dying .. I try to reason with it .. I want to kill this monster inside me .. But I'm the monster .. It's my voice .. It's me I'm running from. ..I can't separate the two .. And am I even myself anymore with out that part of me ? I don't know who I am without wanting to die ? I'm so alone now .. No one gets this girl .. She's always miserable .. And judgemental .. Cause yes I did roll my eyes when a friend said I get it .. I have bad days ! They don't get it .. But they don't know .. They don't have any idea that I think of dying 59876 a day that I write letters .. That I have plans .. That this pain in the gut of my stomach won't be gone untill then .. I hate myself . I hate the person I have become . I hate the way I have destroyed relationships out of fear. I hate that I'm a 36 year old adult who spends most days laying in bed doing nothing . .. My son deserves more .. He knows he's my life line and that's sad I'm sorry this was so long .. Im sorry I'm such a weak person ..