Ok, so after another day of rows, of bulimia, of hurting myself just so I can bloody well feel, of trying to survive just one more fucking day, I have just the question "why" left. Why bother? Ok, death is a "bad thing" and "people will miss me" and "it will have a negative effect on all sorts of people" and I know that, I've known enough people who have killed themselves, and I know that most people think it's utterly selfish and callous and pretty much pointless. I'm all of those things anyway. I'm a fucking waste of space, and my family have just happily confirmed that for me. Again. Why don't I move out? Because I have nowhere to go, and I don't have the balls because I still believe every barb they throw at me about how useless I am, and the absurd, stupid fact that I still love them with everything inside me. Which doesn't actually make sense. I know they love me too, but they just can't stand me as a human being - if I wasn't blood, they woulnd't have anything to do with me. I have no friends who would take me in, no places to go. I'm 17, I don't have the guts to go anywhere and I don't even really have the guts to kill myself properly, I've only given it 7 tries so far. FFS I can't even kill myself properly! So I hurt myself and I hate myself and it starts all over again, and I'm sitting here thinking hey, so I can't die here and now. Make it look like an accident, I reckon, save everyone the pain of thinking I'm a selfish suicidal bitch and die as I lived - stupid and pathetic. Please help me. again, sounding incredibly pathetic, but hey, no changes there. Lex.