It's hard to function when all you want is to kill yourself. When you want to die, even the most effortless things in life become a challenge. You don't speak because your words get tangled in your mouth, and hide behind your lower lip. Your brain is working at full velocity but when you speak, the words don't come out smooth like the way the sound in your head. You choke on them and they come out in chunks like crunchy peanut butter. You try to eat, and you have to tell yourself swallow it, even though you don't want to. You look at food and you know that you're hungry because you haven't eaten in days, but your stomach closes up and the smell of pork chops suddenly makes you want to hurl. You dread nightfall; lying awake in your bed, rolling around in a pudde of your own sweat. As the rest of the world is catching some shut-eye, you wallow in your own self-pity and the walls begin to speak to you. Your arms burn and your chest caves in and your breathing shallows and your body is completely immobile. Your heart pounds against your ribcage and you can even feel the blood rushing through you. You lose track of time because when you're trapped in your own mind, time does not exist. There is only you and that's it. No parents to lecture you about grades, no shrinks asking you how you're doing, no strangers eyeing you down the street, no psychopharmacologists throwing prescription drugs at you. It's just you and desolation. You want to cut, but you've lost the energy to breathe, let alone get out of bed and bleed. You want to scream but your windpipe is sealed shut. You want to cry but you've run out of tears to shed. You want help. You need help. But things like this are never that simple. No outside force can make these feelings disappear. The only one who can help you... is you.