Not So Much An April Fools Joke

My thoughts are heavy and conflicting.

I should have known better, but I never do.
I always indulge in the wrong or the worst possible things.

My thoughts of self-harm, self-hatred and suicide are growing louder and staying longer.

I know I have people in my life and that I can talk to them, and I do, but I still feel alone.

It feels as if I am a burden. That this illness is a burden. 

Yesterday I cried, but it wasn't cathartic at all.

I just want to drink. I want to turn off everything and escape. I'm having the hardest time handling things. I've reached the point where I don't know if I can handle it anymore. It feels as if I am slipping away; that there is nothing holding me up and nothing holding me here. I'm a disappointment to everyone. I wish I was never born. the joys I've felt in this life are nothing compared to the sorrows. If I could drown in joy, I would love to try that. I imagine it would be something somewhat comforting. 

Rainbow coloured pills are supposed to keep me here, ease the pain and tension, but somedays, no probably more than half the days, they do nothing at all. The past few weeks have been so overwhelming for me. Another job, crazy work hours, feelings of isolation and the feeling that if I leave that job I will disappoint a friend have all become a little much for me.