lately i've been further along the road to intending suicide than i've ever been, which is saying something. i was real bad over summer, then i got a little bit better in october/novemberish, and now i'm back down again. i keep trying to tell myself that it's just a temporary mood, and i'm busting my ass trying to pull myself out of it, but i just can't. it's not temporary. i want it all to just stop so badly. i don't even care if there's relief or anything after that, i just want it to stop. i want to stop being me. but there's a part of me, a small but vehement part, that i blame on evolution/innate human drives, that doesn't want to let me die. and a part of me that thinks that this is all we get, so i owe it to myself/the world/the concept of existence to make the most of the existence i get (i'm an atheist). but regardless, this half-life of suffering is not doing anyone any good. spending hours alone in my room, existing but just barely. no. if it was one failure, one shortcoming, i could take it. i'm a master at overcoming adversity, but it's not about adversity or challenges or things gone wrong. it's about the very nature of who i am as a person, and the way i've demonstrated nothing but a pattern of failing myself and everyone around me for most of my life. you can only let yourself down so many times. and don't tell me that it's 'fixable' because i've been trying to fix it for at least the past ten years, at least knowingly. and i'm just not capable. some things are just broken beyond being fixed. i'm sick of pretending. it's fucking exhausting. i'm just so fucking tired, and crying makes my eyes hurt. and i'm so, so sick of my failure to just BE OK. i don't understand why i'm incapable but apparently i am. i have a cut on my leg that hasn't closed in nine days, because i'm a fucking idiot and can't deal with the shit that goes on in my stupid fucked up head. and i know i should have gotten stitches on it, but what am i going to do, go to a fucking doctor? and tell him what? that i wrestled a tiger? so he can fucking lock me up and call my mother and she'll have a fucking breakdown with how i've disappointed her yet again by going crazy? yeah, awesome. and i can miss dean's date and finals and fail to graduate in the spring, which would really hit an all-time high in terms of disappointment/general failure as a person. i've dug myself into such a deep hole with my failures that there's no way out again. and i've been trying to claw my way up the fucking walls but i can't anymore. it's hopeless. i know this.