Dead, as always.

My sleeping is...
My lack of sleeping is awful.
The fluoxetine just makes me get crazy.
Not to mention that yesterday my mother thought it was better if I'd take two.
I personally think that if at all, the fluoxetine just makes it worse.

I didn't went to school in the last two days, too anxious, too sad, just overall bad.

Most of the time, I'm numb.
The inbetween...
Oh fuck, I can either have the capabilities of a three year old, where everything is funny, annoying people is funnier, focus levels are ridiculously low, or want to die, tear up, and consider what's the most efficient suicide method I should use and what not.

I just feel like a loony.

I'm scared of increasing the dosage.

I'm dying to sleep all day, not because I'm tired, but because I don't want to deal with life.

I want to die so bad, and I think that the thing that scares me the most is what if I stay alive? Then what?

I just feel like a mental mess, I'd rather to get kicked in the face.
Considering the fact that getting kicked in the face isn't that painful for me and as long as I'm not bleeding and nothing's broken I can go on, then this "rather" thing isn't that much of a good idea.

I wish I could just jump out from the window now, I'd maybe at most break a couple of bones [feet, maybe legs, worst case scenario fucking my whole spine, which is highly unlikely because of my landing style] but you know why?
Because of something that is very known in ones who attempted, is that they regret it while they're falling down.

I want to regret it.
I must regret it.

If I won't feel that regret... Oh, I just need to jump and go all the way down.

I don't need to live.
I wasn't supposed to.
I don't even deserve these luxuries.
So why won't I just stop being? Why don't I do the right thing? Why can't I just die?
What am I so afraid of?!

I wish I'd just be murdered!
It'll make shit easy.


Oh guys, I hope I'd just die.