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I screwed up. No, ******** up. I know it's my fault, I'm in no position to deny that. Maybe it's better if I give up now, not many people would miss me. They may miss me for a time, but they would go on living their lives without me. Their lives are probably better without me anyways, they don't care much anyways. I know no one needs me, or wants me. I'm just a ******** up.. That's all I'll ever be. The worst part is the thoughts that riddle my brain, the thoughts of self harm and mutilation. It's a difficult task to hold myself back from not acting on these impulses, I already have new scars. Why do I do it? I'm not sure. I know most people will view me as a freak, who would want a body riddled with scars? The thoughts of wanting to stop living also plague my brain, every moment of everyday I think about it. I have to stop myself from examining a bottle of pills and wanting to chug the contents, I hear it's an excruciating experience. These thoughts just keep getting worse and worse, I can no longer block them out. It may be a matter of time before I actually attempt them, that frightens me even though I want to die. I'm wondering if I would be healthier mentally if things had ended better. But, they didn't, they can't. I've lost my best friend, even though we had only known each other for a short time. She was someone I could tell anything and everything to, a person I could go to when I reached my lowest point. I'm the one who is to blame though.. I know I am.. I deserve this, all of it..