I virtually disappear from every sit I've ever been on without any warning, and no one cares. No one notices. I'm feeling the worst I have ever felt in my life, and no one cares. No one notices. I'm struggling with ending my addiction to self-harm, and no one notices, and no one should notice, because no one knows. I lie through my teeth about every little thing--no one truly notices me. No one knows, no one cares, no one notices. I have to wonder, does it really even matter? Is it even worth the fight? What's one person worth? What am I worth? And I'm thinking as I sit here, and I conclude nothing. I'm worth... nothing. It *doesn't* matter. And each night suicide becomes more and more of an option, a consideration, and it scares me. But that's okay, because no one knows, no one cares, no one notices. I *don't* matter, and in a way, the realization sets me free. And it also weighs me down. It disappoints me. It upsets me. It scares me. It makes me want to cry. And I'm posting this now, I'm taking the time to write it and post it, so that I won't have the time or energy to cut. Because otherwise I know I will, and I will break my month-long no-harm streak. But that's okay, because no one knows, no one cares, no one notices. And you know it's true.