I've resigned myself to believe that I'll never be happy. My meds aren't working. 5mg cipralex. Very low dose. Doctor wont up it. Meh.

When I was 14, my nan died. Then my boyfriend dumped me. My best friend moved miles away. I failed college. Took a year off where I succeeded in getting fat. Failed college again. Got fatter. Then I started meds, that was in August.

Yesterday, I kissed my closest friend, and then realised I didn't want a relationship with him at all. And he's insane about me. And he's actually trying to make me feel better after I rejected him, essentially.

I'm talking to him now on MSN. I told him how I dont self harm, but I do intentionally hurt myself. My zits never heal because I scratch the skin right off them. I gouge skin out of the back of my head, and let it bleed. It'll scab over and I'll gouge it out again. As I do this I think 'you deserve this' quite involuntary.

I also pretend, when lying in bed, that I'm in a coma from which I'll never wake up. My friends and family, and pretty much anyone I've ever met gather around my hospital bed to cry, feel ****ty and say goodbye.

And sometimes it actually hurts for me to breathe. That I'm so burdened and in pain that I can't quite catch my breath. Like there's a weight on my chest pushing down.

This entire ****ing planet is one big let down, one big war, everyone hates everyong else. It's a disgusting place to be. Each night I listen out for the police sirens to go past, which they always do. It's tragic, it's painful, it hurts so bad, this pain. Oh, god, I just want it to stop. To be able to breathe again.

I want babies and a family. So badly. How can someone as obviously ****ed up as me have that? My babies, when they grow older, will get my depression. And a husband... who'd want me?

I don't want to die, I just wish I NEVER ****ING EXISTED.

Oh, god, make it stop. I just want to sleep. Painless, calm, dreamless sleep. I want to let go. I don't want to be here anymore. I can't do it. I hurt everyone I love. I'm a disappointment. I shatter everything I hold dear. I want the migrains to stop. I want peace. I want love. I want to go home, back to being six when everything was safe and easy and pure. Not this. Please, god, not anymore.

(I'm trying to cry quietly so I don't wake my parents up, don't want to alarm them of all this - how ****ing twisted is that?)

I hate myself so much. I loathe every aspect. I'm a heartbreaker and a bitch. I'm a fat, disgusting failure. I'm so desperate. I'm too ****ing nice. I'm a push over. I'm pathetic. I give too much. I have no guts. I used to be strong. I can't handle this. I can't do it. I don't want to.

And I'm so goddamn lonely. I want my best friend back, I want to say sorry to the boy who's insane about me because I broke my promise. I hurt him. Got his hopes up. He's too good for me.

There's not much fight left in me. Tragic.