I have recently decided I should kill myself. Back in October of last year I went ahead and planned it out, it was very premeditated. I decided I'd do it on New Years. I felt that in October it would be quite immature for me to just kill myself so I figured if I'd put my "two weeks notice" in and finish out the year it would be.......respectful I guess. It's funny really, I treat this existence like a job. It's because it is. It's work, and HARD work at that. Anyways, back to what I was saying. I ended up attempting suicide on New Years, as I planned. Well needless to say it didn't work. I was "saved," taken to a hospital, and eventually spent a week in a mental hospital. They force fed me pills , gave me a prescription, set me up with a therapist, and sent me home. At this point nothing works. I'm still as depressed and suicidal as I was before. I would argue that the feelings are actually worse than before. I feel that I live a futile life with absolutely no meaning. This reality is quite pointless to me. I've spent my whole life filled with negative feelings. As a child I was always extremely nervous, as a teenager I was horribly angry, and as an adult I am pathetically sad all the time. This leads me to believe that my entire reason for being is to prove to others that it can always be worse. I feel like that people look at me on their bad days and say "at least I'm not him" in order to feel better. I think suicide would be the ultimate fulfillment of my life's obligation. I suppose I'll end this now, I shouldn't be a coward and delay the inevitable. Thanks for reading.