Time goes on as usual, sad times, periods of anger and hate, but they all come to pass, happiness seemed to have been staying with me for a while, a happy period that did not cease, and didn't feel like it ever would. But I guess I was wrong, and I guess it wasn't technically a "happy" period, it was forced upon me, because I was on the edge the whole time, and I'm falling over the edge now. I suppose that I WAS happy, I suppose...only suppose, but it didn't seem like I was, at least not to me, I pretended for parts of it, and it showed I wasn't in others. The parts of then that I felt happy, truly happy, were very brief. But it doesn't matter, that's over now. It always comes and goes in spells, differing amounts of time during each transition between depression and joy, happiness never seems to be real, the depression seems overwhelming, and usually at the end of the sadness the conclusion is marked by one thing, a scar is born. But...this time there can't be a scar, no cut can be made by my hands...too much to lose, too much has been threatened. It...it just seems like the only solution...and..and my mind is begging for it...it's...it's not even that it seems like the only solution, my mind knows alternatives...but it...it's like I can't help it...like I'm forced to do it. Half of me tells me to do it...forces me to do it, tells me everything bad about me, how worthless, stupid, ugly I am...tells me that to end everything is right, to get me gone for good so I don't plague anyone with my meaningless existence, to end their burden. The other half reminds me of the consequences and breaks down under the pressure and just screams and cries begging to know what to do, wanting help, but usually eventually gives in to the stronger of the two feelings, and well....lets just say i'm not exactly scar free. ...I...I want help. Yet, I don't want to be the one to get it for me and I don't want to have to say anything or have anyone else know. I want to know what's wrong with me, if there's something wrong with me or if my mind is just making up things for attention. It doesn't feel fake.