When will I stop feeling confused

Yes, I’ve given up.

You might think it’s foolish, passing up such a golden opportunity.

I’m aware that I’m an idiot. I’ve wept over my own frailty like a coward more times than I can count.

But isn’t there still a chance? Time hasn’t run out yet. Why not give it another shot? A different voice whispers in my head.

I’m worn out from enduring it all.

Just yesterday, I accidentally cut the palm of my hand while pressing down on my wrist’s artery.

I watched it pulse, worm-like. A sudden urge washed over me—the thought that I could end my life so effortlessly, and no one would ever know. How fragile life is, isn’t it?

But I didn’t follow through. I didn’t end my life because I have responsibilities, and I couldn’t bear the thought of causing grief to those who care about me. Those are the only two reasons that come to mind.

At around 1:00 AM, I cut my hair. I chopped it off haphazardly, finding some strange comfort in the control, wishing everything in life could be as simple. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Life seems pointless to me. I lack the strength to deal with everything. I flee when things get too overwhelming. Once again, I sank in my own world.