Gråt.

So. Around last time this year, my grandpa tried to commit suicide. He was sick, and didn't want to stick around anymore, I suppose.When people asked me about how he was doing in the hospital, I told them not to worry, and that he would be fine soon. After all, he was just a bit sick. Nothing more. I didn't tell them that he had tried committing suicide.

I mean, when people ask you how you're doing, they really don't want to know. They just expect you to come with the "im fine! you?" answer. An answer like that is easier to handle than a "i fucking hate you and everyone else in this fucking world, and i wish humanity had a fucking neck so i could choke it".

But that's how I'm feeling. My life is weighing me down. And I found out my grandpa had been involved in a car accident today. He's in the hospital now. I don't know if he did it on purpose or if it was an accident.

Suicide is a strange thing. Sometimes it feels like it's the best thing I could do for myself. You know, just letting go. As Sam Cooke mentioned in a song, it's been too hard living, but I'm afraid to die.

I wonder if sadness runs in the family. After I visited my family spring, I pretty much isolated myself in a cabin in the woods. I stayed there, without really doing anything. I didn't want people to visit me, I just wanted to be alone. It helped to begin with - but then everything went downhill. Like, I ended up isolating myself so much I became semi crazy, I suppose.

I started seeing things, hearing voices and whatnot, when I went out for a walk and when I swam (the cabin was next to a lake), it seemed like something was trying to pull me down under the water.

I want to carry on, because I have no idea of what's waiting on the other side. But at the same time, I'm starting to doubt myself more and more. And even when people are making small jokes, I get catty. I'm so unsure of myself that I expect almost everything someone say to me, is meant sarcastic or mockingly.

I don't really want to hang around, but I'm afraid to die.

Hårdknude

I couldn't sleep tonight. So I took my duvet and went up on the roof. I didn't do anything, I just sat there, only wearing panties. I had my duvet, but I was still shivering. At the end, it got so cold that it felt like my skin was burning.

I needed to talk to someone. But at the same time, I didn't feel like talking or being with someone. I'd rather be alone than pretend I'm alright. At least for now. Pretending to be alright all the time, is taking a toll on me.

I went out shopping with a friend a few days ago. She talked about her boyfriend and the Philippines, and I smiled, laughed and made sure to say all the right things. But every time I saw a bus, I felt like walking in front of it. I don't want to make a scene or anything, I just get this urge sometimes. Pretty often. All the time.

I don't want anyone to get upset, I just don't really feel it anymore. When I see a knife, I feel like cutting - although cutting yourself with a knife is harder than doing it with broken glass or a razor blade. And when I walk across a street, I secretly wish getting hit by a car or a bus, etc. There are no crazy or wild thoughts behind it, it's all quite dispassionate. I'm just not feeling it. I chose to live, a long time ago, but living doesn't feel right. I can't really explain it, but it just feels wrong, somehow. I don't really believe in the future, I suppose. I'm stuck in the past.


I feel disconnected. And hungry.