I can’t manage a picture today.
I also wrote another blurting poem, but at this moment I’m too scared to put it out.
Even putting out this one I have so many fears and voices desperately trying to hold me back, telling me
‘how dare you’
‘you have no right’
‘there are so many other worth while problems out there’
‘You pathetic bitch’
and, and . . . .
But the bare bones of it is that today I am deep in depression, suicidal thinking and thoughts, I don’t want to be here I’ve had enough . . . . And there’s a part of me that still holds on.
Can’t manage a picture though.
It’s hard enough just writing.
I’m too scared to ‘advertise’ this posting on Facebook. Too scared of people’s fearful views of anything ‘suicidal’. Too scared. Another time I’ll get a bit more stuck into what this means.