[ WP ] The thoughts and emotions going through someone 's mind right as they begin an attempt at suicide .

I looked at my face in the mirror and stared very deeply into my own eyes. I saw the tears streaming down my face originating from them, but my eyes themselves held nothing in them besides pain. I am hollow, I empty, my existance is nothing but me screaming internally. I was in a hole deeper than the ocean, with just as much pressure. My skin crawled with anxiety every waking second and there was nothing I could do about it. 
 
 The simplist tasks are beyond my capabilities. The idea of really talking to people or having to leave messages brings me to tremors. I'm alive but I'm not living. This is n't a life. I'm a waste of space and a burden on my family. There is no joy, no love inside of me. Every single day plays out exactly the same and it fills me with a numb bitterness. Nothing I do makes me happy, so I'm not going to even bother anymore. 
 
 I looked down at the large knife I brought with me from the kitchen and just stared at it. My gaze was half eager, half terrified. I ran my finger along the edge of the blade, but not hard enough to cut it. I never did it with enough force to draw blood; I never could. I'm such a fucking coward. How can all these other people cut themselves so easily when I ca n't even muster up the courage to slice my finger? I'm a worthless waste of resources. 
 
 Millions of people die everyday over the most trivial things and here I am, taking everything for granted and not feeling a single shred of fulfilment. It's disgusting, I'm disgusting. 
 
 I pick the knife up and run it along my thigh where I think the femoral artery probably is. I never bothered looking up where it was exactly, but I know it's one of the only surefire ways to guarantee death. Only attention seekers slit their wrists. I do n't want attention, I want nothingness. 
 
 I hold the knife upright so the tip is digging slighly into my skin and leave it there. I laugh quietly to myself. There's no way I could muster up the courage let alone the strength it stick this hard into myself. But God do I want to. I want this all to just go away. I want the noise in my head to go away, I want to care more about things and care less at the same time. I want to be happy.....but I know that'll never happen. 
 
 I press the knife into my skin as hard as I could muster, and I did n't even break the skin. I am enraged with myself. I throw the knife in a fit of anger and it clatters violently to the floor somewhere out of my sight. My sobs intensify and I drop to my knees defeated. I pound against the bathroom floor like a petulant child not caring as I try to release my feelings but completely self aware of how fucking overdramatic I am. This is why I need to kill myself. 
 
 It feels like hours have passed and I'm still crying in the bathroom like the pathetic piece of shit that I am. Exhausted both physically and emotionally, I pick myself up off of the floor and half drag myself to my bed. It seems I'll be here for another day... at least. Maybe tomorrow I'll go find a bridge, but I'm afraid of heights so I imagine it will go the same. 
 
 I close my eyes and let the nightmares I face every night overtake me.
