I'm just so tired

I'm thinking about the end. February 15th, far enough away from the holidays not to ruin them, far away from my mom birthday not to turn it. I just want to sleep. Been depressed my whole life, the day it happened my mother tells I said "I hurt" that hurt has been so internalized it just who I am an inescapable void. Suicidal thoughts haven't been my problem they've been my solution to calming my mind, one day it'll be over, it will all stop. My innocence wasn't just taking my identity died too. When I went to a counselor they asked if I was just bored.

Suicidal thoughts aren't my problem they are my coping mechanism: Maybe I am, maybe I just need to get over it and be a man. Maybe I'm weak for not. I've always felt like I was less of a human being, like I was missing a vital part of myself, that everyone else had. Like I was inferior. My lousy. I'm a reject. I'm awkward. I'm ugly. I'm unintelligent. Life is a factory, some parts have defects that need to be discarded I'm one of them. If I hurt myself Maybe I'll be better. I hate myself. I hate my voice. I've wasted my life, I've squandered all my opportunities. These are my constant thoughts. These are my thoughts that I use to self harm. Why do I beat myself to death, why do I seek out pain. I'm magnetized to it. I seek it out, but don't know why. I urge the thoughts on, I egg them to go further. To justify self annihilation. If I hurt myself no one else can.