Suicidal Emotions"Dear diary." This is it. I have ended my miserable life.
I couldn't take this shit any more. Being trapped in a wheelchair for the rest of my damn life is just not worth it. The surgeons told me that everything would be ok, they gave me hope, only to crush it under the soles of their feet and watch me destroy myself. They lied to me! They didn't know what it felt like! I thought I could handle my emotions, control them, contain them, prove them all wrong, but I was just too weak. I let it slip through my fingers, out of my grip. It poisoned me, it clouded my mind. They didn't know anything, they only feel the cold touch of their knives!
They gave me antidepressants. It helped me think clearly, to see things through. I took a couple of extra pills this afternoon, they showed me what I had to do in this... short moment of clarity. They showed me that there was noone and nothing worth living for. They showed me how fake Sophie and my doctor were, how they were laughing at me behind their masks when I wasn't looking.
Laughing at me, my legs, thinking that they are so good, that they are better than me.
Pretending that they care about me, it's all bullshit!