In the final week of March I got higher than I ever could and blacked out. I used sleeping tablets to hallucinate. But it should've coated me my soul. Now, this drug I chose drains your body of water. After that, I decided to drink some whiskey. And ended up having the paramedics arrive at my house. As I had smashed my face on plug sockets. My room looked like a murder scene. Nobody asked how it happened. Hell, I even hinted at the sleeping drugs mixed with alcohol....Here is my question, does my subconscious want to die? Yet I want to live? I find life to be an enthralling joy. I really do love living. But then I get these thoughts that creep up into my mind....imagine what it would feel like to jump off that building. Imagine cutting your dry skin so bad that you make blood appear.... I feel confused by this whole situation. Please forgive me for writing a wall of text.