What You Know When You Know You Will Die

i don't think anyone understands the fragility of life quite like someone who plans on ending theirs. Someone like me, who knows they are going to die soon. I understand that life is extremely fragile, easily broken and impossible to mend. Breaking skin, touching blood and bone and organ, that's all it takes. Humans are more fragile than the typical child's bouncy ball. Or the little girl's doll, or the 100 dollar phone. We break easily. I'm one of the few who try to break it. Try to push push push at the thin barrier between life and death and burst through to the other side, where things must be better. They MUST. because how could anything be worse than the hell I live here on earth.

I've heard this theory that maybe earth is another universe's heaven. That things here are so much better than everything there and that we people are so lucky to get to live such a wonderful life here on earth or heaven or wherever we are because we have happiness and kitty cats and donations and movies and music.

I refuse to believe this. We have starvation, and disease, and hate, and war, and screaming, and suicide, and murder, and violence, and indifference, and oppression, and bullying, and depression, and mental disorders, and horrible car wrecks, and guns, and tragic accidents, and all of this cannot cannot CANNOT amount to heaven.

My guess is that we're living on some other planet's Hell. It's one big joke and the sooner you get out the sooner you can go back to that much much much better world where people are actually happy and kind and caring and sweet. I intend on leaving as soon as humanly possible. I've tried before.

The thing about depression is that though you may have a wonderfully perfect day, the littlest things set you off and leave you struggling to hold yourself together, crying in a little heap. Sometimes I have to physically hold myself in one piece. Wrap my arms around myself and squeeze as tight as I can to ensure that I don't shatter into a thousand glittering pieces. Because sometimes the pain of everything is so bad  feel like I might. That no mortal person could ever hold so much hurt and sadness and pain inside of them without it bursting out like a tidal wave.

Sometimes, when I'm hurting so bad, and crying so hard, and completely listless on the floor of my room I can feel my little heart. It hurts so badly. It's like its under this enormous pressure or is being pricked by one thousand little needles and it just hurts so bad. Traitorous thing. I just want to get a knife and cut it out of my chest and throw it away. It does me no good. It only hurts me more and more.

Oh how I long to cut it out!!!