I've been trying to kill myself for the past year now. Not with a rope or a gun. I did once with pills, but I didn't have enough. But since other ways are so messy and obvious. I just don't eat anymore. I cut, but never deep enough. It is comforting to know that if I did hit a vein, I wouldn't care. This confession sounds very whiny, like I want attention. I don't. I just really wanted theses thoughts that continue to take over my head, out. But it is a little bothersome to know that no one truly gives a f***. But that's life and I swear I'll find a way out.