I want to die. Everyday ive been thinking about how killing myself. Jumping off a building. Running in front of a car. Stabbing myself and making look like an accident. Every single day, I think about this. The probability of me doing it and then surving is making me not want to do it. I dont want to survive. I want to die. I want to slowly fade away. My emotions have been under control. Im calm when im thinking about this. This isn't a random sadness thought. No. It's an everyday thing. It's a calculated thought. Jumping off the 5th floor will not kill me it'll only injure me. Jumping off the 17th floor will. Running into a knife only has a small chance of survival if I miss the heart. If I miss it, I'll have a sling. I dont want that. Sleeping pills won't work. I think my body is so immune to it. Mixing drinks and pills and being outside and freezing to death is one of the highest contenders. Im thinking about it. Maybe when I go to work outside of Vancouver. Maybe that's when I can do it. I won't have anyone stopping me. Im not the person you love anymore. You are right. That person is gone. Along with my critical thinking of being here. You do not need me. No one does. Im okay with it. Im happy to die. Im counting down the days when I do have to go to work in March.