I cry through my skin.

Mood: Depressed, Suicidal, hopeless, ugly

 One, two, three, four, five, six, seven cuts. None visable. I won't go back to the psyche ward. I won't die. I'll never die. I'm doomed to live forever I bet I could take a month's worth of Zoloft and die...I haven't been taking them for about a month. And I felt better...And now I feel terriable. Maybe I shouldn't cutr my wrists...Maybe I should stab them...Just split the vein in half and go deep enough and keep going. Although, with my luck I'm immortal.