To All Those That Consider Themselves My Family And Friends

I really don't know how to put this into words because by the time you will be reading this I won't exist anymore.

Once again my fingers hit the keys , putting down word after word after meaningless word. I'm not sure how many times I have asked you for help before and I don't know how many times I have shared my suicidal intentions with you but one thing I know , today is different . As I watch the rain drops draw their continuous paths down the glass of my window , as I gaze outside at the autumn-like breeze , as thoughts drift past and are forgotten , I realise that I cannot be . I stare , lost and empty, scrutinising that treacherous reflection of mine in the dull glass of the mirror .I don't recognise myself anymore . I don't know what I've become . All I do know is that this is definitely not me .It cannot be me! I cannot possibly be such a pathetic, miserable and altogether abominable being ,can I ? Look at me , I've started pitying myself . Self-pity may be one of the most dangerous things to indulge in right now but it seems so god damn good to know that at least someone has some sort of feelings towards that what I have become.

Sunday has come as a kind of revelation to me .I shock myself on days like that . The possibility that somewhere deep down in that mind of mine lies the capacity to cause myself such great amount of self-inflicted pain seems absurd when looked into more closely. The ability to so totally step back from all human rationale and enable oneself to set hand on ones own body is such a worrisome thing indeed. I know this is so completely wrong , so utterly unacceptable but I cannot change the fact that if those numerous wounds and scars would not be covering my body at present I would not be writing this right now. However , after all I love my beautiful host so dearly and I would never do anything to cause it any harm if I did not think it to be absolutely necessary. Despite all this last Sunday’s dilemma has truly challenged the boundaries of that which is acceptable and has provided me with the realisation that something needs to change.

Things are undeniably no better than they were before and I am indeed only more miserable and depressed than I was before . And there really is little use of me enlightening myself that things are going to get better , I know they will eventually ,but eventually seems so god damn far away right now . I wish there were some swift and effortless way out of this mess , but there is not .Not even death has the capacity to erase the fact that I once existed , not even death can take away their loving memories , can't erase existence entirely . I don't know how to put things right again and I now it's absurd and foolish to think anyone else could do so either. After all I am the sole person responsible for all my pain and misery .Maybe I am just not trying hard enough , maybe I am weak after all , maybe , maybe , maybe. I'm typing this real slowly , much in oppose to the way I usually type .Right now I'm feeling strangely liberated , strangely indifferent to what's going to happen next .Maybe I can learn to understand the fact that I cannot be fixed but I cannot learn to continue living bearing in mind the possibility that all my future holds is merely more misery , pain and ,well, nothing .

Do you want to know what I'm really thinking right now ?I bet you all do .Well, here's what I'm thinking …:"This would make a damn good last entry in this diary, this would make a damn good final entry of goodbye." …And yes , it would ! This would make a great ending to something which hasn't even begun yet this would be gorgeous as a final plea for help as well , because that's what I think this is rather than a suicide note! All I want is help ,but help alone never seems to be enough to get me back on track , to fix that which cannot be fixed .Can I really not be fixed ?Is this really going to stay with me for the rest of eternity? Is it really all my fault for being so uncooperative and ridiculous?

Part of why I can't get help lies in the fact that I'm too damn good at disguising my need for it. And right now I wish for nothing more than to be able to change myself and enable me to accept the help I deserve and need ,but I cannot .Maybe I am to proud to admit to this , or maybe I'm just scared ... thinking of it now the latter is probably closer to the truth .I am scared ! Scared of all one could possibly be scared of , but most importantly scared of myself. And in the end it's not that admitting to feeling this way is the major problem , it is the fact that acknowledging it won't make a difference that worries me the most. No matter how many people I tell that I'm having a terrible day and am feeling extremely desperate, no matter how many people I choose to trust about the infection on my arm , it all won't make a difference in the end because nobody can change anything !They are all just as helpless as I am and that frightens me .It frightens me so badly . The ground has been drawn from underneath my feet so long ago ,I'm not sure what I'm hanging onto right now but it surely isn't much.

I've gone over this so many times before .I've had endless monologues in my mind all circling around the fact that it is impossible for me to change who I am , yet I need to in order to be cured ."Cured", does something like a cure even exist for that which is wrong with me ? Can there possibly be a cure for something which doesn't exist ? Can there even be a cure for something without a name ? I don't know .I can't answer any of these questions ,and even the possibility that nobody else may be able to answer them for me either is enough to send me spiralling down into nothingness once and for all. It all doesn't seem to matter anymore. I have failed miserably at the one thing one only gets on shot at ; life. And even though it might not seem like it to you , I HAVE tried , probably harder than any of you shall ever be able to imagine , but sometimes no matter how hard you try the end result is destined to be failure. All I really want right now is for someone to take me into their arms , to make me feel loved and cared about , for someone to hold and caress me , for someone to tell me that things are going to be all right , to tell me that I'm not the failure I believe myself to be . I need to be rocked in someone’s arms like a babe , I need to be held and made feel accepted. Please tell me that this is not entirely my own fault .

But in the end isn't it all my mistake for pushing them away? Isn't it all my bloody fault for never letting anyone close enough to me for them to actually understand my pain , let alone help me? Like so often I need to cry so badly but once again my eyes seem incapable of producing anything that has even the smallest semblance with tears . All I can do is sit , alone , in my room ,eyes fixed on the screen , hands eagerly typing away the worries of the hours passed. Hours and hours pass by , me just staring ; at the carpet ,at the wall ,at my hands , but the more I stare the more I am beginning to realise that I am really staring at nothing .My eyes start to drift around the room , finally they interlocked with the moving shadows of the trees outside my window .It's dark now .I'm supposed to be soundly sleeping in my bed ,everyone else is dead to the world and I'm up , typing , staring , cutting, burning . My eyes are beginning to get sore from lack of sleep , my head hurts terribly yet I cannot go to bed. And I'm not wanting anyone to feel sorry for me , pity me or feel the least bit forced to help me .I know I'm a burden to everyone , and even if they choose not to admit to this troublesome fact , I know I am .

Why do I make it impossible for others to help me ?

There's so many questions I don't know the answers to , so many questions that shall remain unanswered in my lifetime .And maybe it is better to live in oblivion than question that which undoubtedly is there .But is it really better to live while one is dead than to die while one is living ?It cannot be. I'd rather die while still having the merry memories of better days in the back of my mind than having to live the rest of my life in permanent sorrow and despair . I can feel it fade , the life-force which once made me such a happy child. Maybe it is the onset of reason that is causing such dilemma , maybe it is just the chemicals in my sorry little soul or maybe it really is just me .I cannot answer that question for you and I know you cannot answer it for me either.

Still I am typing , still I am wondering whether this would make a better note of goodbye than plea for help, still I'm not sure about the answer. Once again I have reached the end . I can feel it so close , right next to me ,but this time things are different , this time I don't have the strength to escape its seemingly inescapable fangs anymore .I am weak but you are the ones that have made me weak. All of you! All of you that took a way that which now I cherish the most , my happiness. Damn you for giving me hope that things could get better , damn you for thinking you could help me , damn you for not having let me go last time. Things DO NOT just get better .How should they? Some things in life just cannot be changed , maybe this is one them , maybe it is not .However , even if it were not it wouldn't change the fact that I cannot go on, that I have become weak , have long been defeated by this.

All this time I've been fighting a pointless battle lost long ago .There never was a chance of me winning to begin with , was there? I ponder now upon the fact of why I have chosen to come this far .Was it really all for nothing ?Have I really been trying and struggling for nothing all this time ?Only to be defeated miserably in the end? Is this really all there is to life ? So often I wish to just turn back time , start all over again. However still I'm not sure whether I would have been able to do things differently , not sure whether I would have been able to pull myself together more. And I hate myself for being weak ,I hate myself for having to feel this way , but in the end I know it's not my fault. I'm not the one to blame , nobody is to blame and maybe that's the problem. At least if I knew I were to blame I would feel justified in doing what I am about to do .

Read my words ; so many contradictions, so much ambivalence .

I know it is irrational, self-inflicted death cannot be a rational proceeding but that really doesn't change a thing .Be it rational or irrational , nothing can change the fact that I cannot go on . I am still fully aware of the fact that that which I have just written in this post is utterly irrational , all god damn irrational ,but isn't the fact that I am able to see this irrationality the best proof for such thing as reason still existing in my screwed-up, pathetic mind? Look at it !Even this last question holds an element of irrationality !I know myself I am not pathetic , not stupid , not weak . I know that I am tremendously strong ! I think I know so many things about myself but I'm beginning to get scared that those things I think I know do not correspond with the truth after all. What if this reality I see is not as real as I always thought it to be? What if all of this is after all just a figment of my imagination?

And No! I do not want to die !It scares me so much to think that in a moment of total irrationality and despair I might be able to actually go ahead with my plan. I want to put things right again but I cannot. I'm stuck ! No matter where I seem to turn , back , forth , up , down , it only gets worse .And trust me , it's one of the most horrific experiences to have to see your own self deteriorate ,to see yourself slowly loose control. In the end all you can do is stand there and watch , watch your body fall apart , watch your soul destroy itself. There's nothing you can do except for stand , watching , staring , questioning . None of these things shall make a difference in the end , you cannot prevent this from happening to yourself because all you are is a lonely voyeur , gagged and tied up , unable to act , unable to help yourself or your own body. Now don’t you tell me this is not a hopeless condition!

Then again , in a way I guess this state intrigues me .Maybe that is why I have chosen to dwell on it for so long. It fascinates me to see these things happen , mainly because they are so out of reach to my own comprehension .Ultimately I'm simply looking for answers to questions that don't exist , questions that on the other hand need to be answered before I am able to feel at peace with myself again. Right now no coherent thought seems to pass my mind .How am I ever supposed to obtain answers to anything at all in a state like this ?

I'm scared that others might think me to be weak , I'm scared that others might think this to be a flaw of character rather than a disease ,I'm scared that they don't understand or maybe don't even want to understand . At the end of the day this is not about me , it's about the society I live in ; judgmental and cruel they condemn all which does not coincide with their perfect picture of the world. And I'm sorry ,terribly , terribly sorry for having caused everyone so much trouble , for having messed up their previously flawless values , their lives and all else . If I were ever given a choice or a chance to do things differently be sure to know that I wouldn't have chosen this . Again , I really was never given a choice was I? A choice implies that there are options .I was never given any options (unless you consider suicide a valid option .I surely don't because for me deciding on an option also means that one must be able to see the consequences of such decision ).For me suicide is not an option , it is an irrational action taken as a result of there being no more options but it is not an option in itself .Is it?

Right now I'm wondering whether those words even make sense to anyone but myself, doubting whether they will even make sense to myself when I revisit them in the future. Do I make sense? I am beginning to get the feeling I don't , am beginning to question whether that which I say and write and do seems as unquestionably true to anyone else as it does to me. When you look at me what do you feel ? Do you pity me or simply feel indifferent to my existence ? Do you genuinely care are you just forcing yourself to care because that's what you think society expects you to do? I know you cannot tell me because your answer would probably hurt me too much .God, look at me , who am I kidding ; I know the answer already!

Why do I have to keep holding on? Why ?Endless hours I have spend pleading with god to please annihilate me as my own attempts at doing so are so pathetic and useless. Maybe I'm scared of dying too much .Understandable isn't it ?After all who tells me that which awaits me is truly going to be better than the present situation? Who tells me that I won't be trapped in purgatory for the rest of eternity , suffering even more for I have committed the worst of all crimes ; have taken that which is supposedly most precious to me , my own life . Irrational again! I don't believe in either , God , heaven or hell . I believe that just like all things living ,we too , shall fade away into nothingness forever to be forgotten! I don't understand why people believe in heaven , or hell. What need is there for good and evil? What if there were no such thing as good and bad? Isn't is all so utterly irrelevant in the end ?Why does society have to categorise mankind even in death ?Why do we feel we need answers to these seemingly inexplicable things ?Why are we what we are , who we are , how we are ?

It seems so silly and naive of me to ask those questions because in the end I know that there are no answers to them .Maybe it's good that there aren't any! Maybe it's better to remain oblivious in regard to some questions rather than find oneself faced with the blunt and horrifying truths of such answers .Once again I too do not know the answer. However despite all this the human mind never ceases to amaze me. It's thoughts, feelings and complex reasoning ; a masterpiece of creation or an evolutionary mistake that shall , in effect , eliminate itself ?I believe there is some truth in both of these claims but ultimately mankind's reason shall be its own destruction. As the human race gets more and more curious , as we proceed to further challenge the laws of science and as further generations shall grow up further questioning the unquestionable ,mankind shall come to the sorrowful realisation that they may be able to change the physicalitles of being , but shall never be able to fully eliminate the fact that after all mankind lives to die. Maybe this view is too rational but it is what I believe in nonetheless .

I know I can never possibly say anything to make you understand the emptiness I feel inside . And it’s wrong! I want to watch myself bleed , want to watch that joyful crimson spring slowly trickle down my skin , flooding all which lies beneath , cleansing my torn and feeble soul . And further it shall spill , oozing from that false and treacherous wound , no longer shall it have the capacity to supply my tormented body with its life sustaining 37 degree warm comfort. I need pain , I need reality and while I watch the blood pour from within I know that it is real , fascinatingly real , more real than anything else in my world. God, this is not me writing those appalling words !I don’t want this to be me !What is happening ?

I don’t know what is true anymore , only occasionally am I allowed a glimpse at that which you conceive as reality. I can’t tell it apart anymore , all commingles within the infinity of my complex little mind , reality , idealism , nothingness. Maybe they are hallucinations , maybe they are there for real ; the voices , the visions ,the files , the bugs , the ants , the spots, the shadows, the lines and all else. I don’t know what to think anymore . My mind’s capabilities scare me to death . I try to see things rationally , constantly keep on telling myself that these illusions can only be the products of my diseased mind but that doesn’t alter the fact that I see and hear them .I try to push it all away yet the more my endeavour , the worse things seem to get. I have become all I ever feared I would become ; a stranger to myself.

I don’t have the strength anymore to face up to this. I can’t go on . Just one single solitary step and this fragile little heart of mine shall never beat again , one final desperate act and these eyes of mine shall never see again the beauty of this world .What troubles me most about this prospect is the fact that it is so dreadfully final. Final! It bothers me to think that in a fit of momentary stupor and senselessness I might actually have the capacity to realise my dreams and plans .…It bothers me ?…No it doesn’t only bother me , bother is much too meaningless a word for that which I feel about this matter .It scares me ….and I wish I could think of a more powerful word for being scared right now but there seems to be none . Maybe the English language isn’t as equipt for such powerful feelings after all ? I’m not afraid, not worried , not terrified , nor fearful , not anxious, upset , vexed or concerned about anything .I wish I knew how to explain ….I wish I had the words .

I have rambled for so long .I don't even know what I'm writing anymore yet still the hands keep on moving , hitting the buttons ,trying to reproduce the internal being on paper. I know I shall never fully succeed in doing so and it is not , or has it even been, my intention to censor life or mankind , to preach my belief or anything of the like . In the end this is my only means of relief , words , superficially trivial little words that only make sense because we made them out to have a meaning .Maybe I am stupid . Maybe such thing as stupidity doesn't exist . Maybe it is all just a matter of living up to ones potential .In the end it doesn't matter , does it ? My words , be they naïve ,irrational or obtuse in your eyes will always only be bits and piece of the truth , strung together by punctuation marks and letters ....nothing more than that , nothing less . That which I'm really trying to express cannot be put into words because words tend to obscure the meaning of things just by enabling others to read , judge and edit them .Maybe some truths can only exist on the inside.

Still it doesn't seem time to stop. I still haven't said all I wanted to say , still haven't explained all I need to explain .And maybe deep inside I'm doubting that I'll be able to explain anything to you at all .Is it because there is nothing there to be explained ?Or because that which I'm trying to share with you was inexplicable to begin with and hence cannot be described? Thinking of it now I'm not even sure why I'm trying to make things clearer for you .I guess in the end this is a cry for help , a cry destined to be heard by no-one but my pitiful self .I cannot change who I am , nor who I have become , cannot change physical appearance nor genetically make-up but what I can change , even if it be just a little bit , is your understanding of the person I have become . All I want is a bit of love and understanding in regard to this issue because for most of the time the reactions I’m faced with are horrific and cruel and only contribute to making the matter worse.

If you have come this far I trust you must in some way care about me , I also gather that the only reason you are reading this right now is the fact that I have chosen to go ahead with my plan . Now I'm faced with the horrendous task of finally parting from you , leaving you behind , all alone , having to deal with the consequences of my inexcusable actions .I'm hoping that this last note has at least given you some sort of understanding of why I did what I did .Writing a suicide note surely isn't an easy task but it shall be nothing compared to the guilt and sorrow you shall have to live with for the rest of your lives . But how does one write a note of goodbye without hurting those left behind too irreparably ?How does one write this note in the knowledge that it's existence will outlast your own? How does one write anything containing all one so desperately wishes to explain but is unable to put into words? How? I don't know -I have tried the best I can right now , tried to explain but nevertheless I am fully aware of the fact that no matter how much or how often I try to explain this too you , you will never fully understand.

I'm sorry . I know these words will be of little consolidation to you now but that's really all I am . Sorry for having made your future potentially harder than necessary .Sorry for hurting you and not having asked for your help before it was too late .I really am sorry for that but I am not sorry for what I am about to do .I am fully aware of the consequences and I take full responsibility for any of my actions .I want to go ahead with this even though somewhere deep down , smothered under endless quantities of pain , agony and despair , that happy old life-force is still screaming at the top of its lungs :"DON'T DO IT CLAUDIA" . Why would anyone choose to take their own life ? I don't know about anyone , but I see no way out .I know there are ways but maybe I don't care , don't have the strength anymore to stand up to this .I cannot go on !!!!HELP ...and the more I write those words over and over again , the more foolish and absurd they seem to me ; pathetic really!

Do me this one last favour , remember that you have done nothing wrong! Don't blame yourselves for this was nobodies fault but my own .I still love you just as much and I now you love me back but unfortunately your love cannot keep me alive forever . I cannot say anything to make you understand but I just can’t bear to continue living with this: My blood, pulsating through my narrow veins, making my heart convulse, rapidly, faster and faster. Unobtrusive in its flow, gorging down the narrow pathways that supply my lifeless body with the life I detest so much. I feel famished, lifeless, wretched- yet I MUST continue on, down the inextricable pathways that life unfolds before me. Plaintive my body fights for its end yet my mind still tries to avert form this .Sedate me! From dust we all have come and to dust we shall return. How true !?

I can't type anymore .My mind feels so clouded and right now I am wondering whether any of what I must wrote makes any sense at all. Most likely it won't but that's besides the point. What does one do when one discovers that one has no longer control over one's own body, its actions , thoughts and processes ?Isn't one left with only one logical conclusion?

Take this as you want ; as a note of goodbye ,or a final plea for help .In the end they both are the same , aren't they?

Help Please!!!!

I am eternally grateful to you!

In Love Claudia