I’m so, so sorry.
For thinking these things
For considering how many pills it would take to kill me for certain...
For wondering how many seconds it would take with a pillow over my face…
For deliberating how long and deep a bloody cut would have to be…
For pondering how I would hang the rope from my ceiling…
So many, too many options.
I want all of them.
Every single one.
And I’m sorry that you’re not enough to stop me.
I’m sorry that I am not strong enough to continue.
I’m sorry that no amount of love, words and emotion
Will stop me from falling under, and becoming another Forgotten Suicidal.