I woke up this morning at 5:54. I went into the shower at 6:40. I turned up the heat to the water. It felt good. It felt different. It was painful, but not, you know? The stinging of the water woke me up. Not just from sleeping, but physically, mentally, psychologically. I sat in the tub, thinking. What am I doing here? Seriously? What's stopping me from laying down and letting the water flow over me? Would I care if I was gone? Would anyone care if I was gone? This isn't a cry for attention, so those who already have that mindset can fuck off. I literarily sat there, in the tub, debating whether or not I should leave my warm little corner. I wanted to curl into the fetal position and lay there, and let whatever happen, happen. I knew it was a mistake to be here. I knew I shouldn't have done it. It's nothing but crap here. I'll be honest with you, and only you. Can you keep a secret? Can you really? Seriously? Ok. I'll tell you. I almost turned the water to hotter. I wanted to feel it on my skin. I wanted to feel the burn. The scalding. Then, I wanted to run to the kitchen and grab the tylenol. And take a few dosages at once. Just to see what would happen. See if it mattered. If it would make a difference. But I didn't. Because that would make me weak. And I can't be weak. I've been taught to not be weak. I have to be strong. I can't show feeling. I have to have ammunition, be ready to hit someone if they hit me. Smack 'em down when they try to jump. I have to be a bitch. I have to be stronger. I have to have no feelings and be all business or nothing. I have to fuck over people who i'd rather not. It's business, they say. You have to look out for yourself. Fuck that. I'm done.