My mum had rang up the  paramedic service and I could be a cadet NEXT TUESDAY! Practicing first aid is my dream. I really want to be a paramedic! I'm really excited, I was gonna kill myself on January 28th but now I'm rethinking it. If this cadet program goes well then I'll stay alive for a bit longer. If it doesn't work out then I'm poisoning myself and taking my own life, Honestly I'm so nervous but excited for Tuesday. Also, my website is coming along well don't you think? :) -Josef

This numbness is taking over my whole body.  I  really want to feel happy and worthful. Instead it's just this numbness,  hopelessness,  worthlessness consuming me and my feelings.  I honestly feel like a corpse. This is probably the reason why I cut.  Just to  feel fucking something. Even if it's a lot of pain. It's better than nothing at all.
​

Through the few years with my happiness steadily going down, I've always had my music to keep me comforted. It made me feel not so lonely, I can relate to lyrics and feel slightly better.  I will always love the bands that helped me through these tough times

Laying in bed, as usual. Too lazy to do anything. Everything is such a huge effort lately, my energy just plummets and I kind of shut down inside. Filled with numbness and hatred, mostly towards myself. I need to slit my thighs, just that tiny bit deeper. I've ordered scalpels but I'm very worried my mum and dad will  find out and get mad. It's my fucking money though. I need those blades so much, I just wanna get them and use them. Cutting so deep I'll need stitches and maybe even cause more damage. As long as my parents dont ask what's in the box or open the package themselves. 

Laying in bed, so tempted to cut. My dad found a few of my blades and he wasn't too happy. He didn't say anything much really. But I could tell he wasn't pleased by the look on his face. It honestly made me feel ashamed too. The feelings of shame and guilt took over me and stayed with me all day. A huge weight on my shoulders. Now as I lay in bed I begin to wonder, why am I still here? It's 3am and I can't sleep, I don't want to sleep, I don't know why but I want to be awake all the time.

It's already January and school is starting.
​I have 3 appointments a week, intensive questions  asked daily. Remembering to take medication daily twice a day. Researching depression and working through counselling to 'fix' me. What's even the point?  If I were to take my own life today, everything would end. Just peacefulness, no pain, no stress, no trauma. Yet I'm still here debating and planning suicide.
- Who's gonna miss me?
- What happens after death?
- How will family cope?
- What if it doesn't work?
These questions keep me here alive and I hate it.  Has anyone gone through this?