I think anyone who thinks they know anything is stupid. Maybe that's mean to say or politically incorrect, but they are. They are below the average thoughts and intelligence. This world is just one big f***ed-up labyrinth. We are all struggling to try and get through life and nothing is sure or even close to sure. The world changes, we change, nothing is forever. One day I'm going to look back on this weekend and say it made me stronger as a person or maybe I'll look back on it and wish that those pills could have just killed me. Who knows, because I sure as hell don't. Maybe that is why religion comes off as so confusing to me. No one knows anything. I've got to do better though, if not for me than for my family. I want to be better, but things are so confusing all the time. Nothing is ever black and white.

I just want to get out of the hospital tomorrow. I want to go home. I don't know how I will be when I get home, I don't know if I can promise I won't cut or that I won't take pills if I find them. I do promise that I won't kill myself. That I can promise. Today I had cheese cake. Normally that would come across to 90% of the population as no big feat. But this was the first time I had willingly tried cheese cake since I was seven. When I overdosed on Saturday I had no intention of dying. I wanted to sleep. Whenever things get too bad all I want to do is go to sleep and escape the fear of my reality for just a few hours. Perhaps going into it I have the intention to sleep until all of my problems go away, which is impossible, but it's still a nice thought. I have hated cheese cake since I was seven. This is due to the fact that when I had it for the first time at a food festival it made me barf. Ever since then I told myself I would never like cheese cake because I hated it so much. I used to always tell people suicide was selfish. It's not. However, instead it is selfish to call suicide selfish. Those thoughts of life ending, of the pain finally being over are a fantasy for some people. The only thing that makes people stop them selves from finally being happy for the first time in a long time is the people in their lives. When I woke up, as in really woke up, for the first time on Sunday I knew what had happened. No one needed to tell me, no one spoke about it but I knew why we were all there.

Things are always changing. My thoughts that run through my head are a constantly moving car swerving down the road. The thoughts come and go so fast. Some are so bad, some are so good, and some (thank god for them) are in the middle. Iv's suck. They hurt really badly, but so does the thought of my mom when she thought her daughter was going to die. Suicidal people never want to hurt the people who love them, but we are in pain all of the time. Being where I am right now in this very hospital bed, hoping that tomorrow I will be able to go home, the best advice I could ever give some one is that the cheese cake tonight was undeniably delicious.