classify text {harassment, self-harm, religion insult, sexist, hate, racist, safe for work, psychiatric or mental illness, porn}

teks: it really wasn't supposed to be like this...it's weird. i catch myself being afraid of myself when i realize i have plenty of moments that i'm not afraid to die. that i get calm and relaxed with the idea i'll die soon - when suicide swirls in my head. it's like i tell myself soon, i can put the shield down and just... stop fighting. i'm exhausted, every day. i cry. i want to shout. i wish someone in my family would hold me and just tell me it's ok - it'll be alright. but i dont think at this point, i'd believe them? i dont know.

&amp;#x200B;

i had an account prior. i tend to do this dumb thing where i delete it in a fit of self defeating mindset. maybe this is one of those moments. maybe i'm just broken like that. i'm told by my psych i have bpd. i suppose, a lot of it makes sense. i've lost so much over just this last year, that the idea of another year like it? i'm crying at the thought. i get headaches at the thought. the worst part is - i have memories where i felt ok. like things were going to work out... like normalcy was beginning to happen.

&amp;#x200B;

i dont subscribe to any religions. i don't believe in an afterlife. i'm mostly afraid only of a cyclic universe in that i, as a person with consciousness, exist only in this exact way. doing the exact same things, making the exact same mistakes, losing the exact same people. it goes against chaos theory, i suppose, and the cyclic universe model isn't very well seated amongst theorists, but like. what if. i don't know. on the flip side, it's also like what if shit were to get worse anyway? track record says it's going to.. if i end it here - and i happen this way again - then i'd be saving myself future grief? but it also implies determinism in that i'm not choosing to relieve myself of anything. it eliminates freedom. i guess i dont know.

&amp;#x200B;

i'm trying hard to articulate my thoughts, because i deep down don't want to die. but i don't want to live, if it means more of the same pain and heart ache and insomnia and stress, anxiety, financial issues, relationship issues. i want to stop earlier me from being such an ass to my ex wife. she stresses me out, for sure. she has faults for sure. but i acknowledge, i did not communicate with her in a healthy way. i'd shut in, until i snapped. i'd ignore her, mostly, towards the end.

&amp;#x200B;

if there's justice, at this point, i feel it serves for me to die, to see it's made. for the most part, i cut myself. on the wounds i already cut myself on. the tears it causes helps, but last time... no tears came. just emptiness.

&amp;#x200B;

i don't know what'll happen this saturday. it was supposed to be my anniversary. if i don't make it out through that day - well. take care. thanks for reading., return JSON {'label'}
{"label": "self-harm"}