Author Information
The Rush
Why does my life have to revolve around self-pity and loathing. I hate myself for not trying, but when I do try, I hate myself for failing. When I actually do something right, I hate myself for not doing it good enough. None of you understand all the pain I've been through, all the tears I have shed. Some of those tears should not have been, but they burst forth with such ferocity, I could not hold them back. I am constantly reminded of the quote from Hamlet. "To be or not to be." That really is the question. Is my life really worth living. I have now but one thing holding me back. If not for that one thing, I probably wouldn't be writing this. I hold myself back but somethings slip through. I cut myself to feel the rush of pain surge through my body. It's the only thing that lets me know I'm still alive.
