The End was almost near

Friday night as I was sitting with my roommate, my emotions got the better of me. Before I knew it I was kicking and screaming and fighting the urge to cut, fighting the urge to kill myself.  I eventually gave up and ran into my room to cut. It was a little too deep. 9 stitches worth to be exact. Right after that cut I wanted to kill myself. The trazadone was there I could have done it, but I was restrained by my roommate and the blood squirting from my arm quickly left me weak. She saved me, not because of the cut, she stood there covered in my blood and her tears and she would not leave my side. She gave me a reason to hang on for a little while longer and I don't think I will ever be able to thank her enough for that. It doesn't stop the thoughts from being there but it helps me fight from acting upon those thoughts. The end was almost near for me and I will have the scar forever to remind me that