Self portrait with a rope

If I wasn't so paralysed with fear at the though of death I probably would have ended my life a few times by now. I think maybe I'm too selfish to let go of the things I love, even though I think they would be better off without me.

I feel like I only ruin the lives of those around me. I'm nothing special, I do not add any joy or any value to their lives...all I do is ruin things. I don't mean to ruin things but I do.

I think of my love, I think of how happy she was when I met her and how unhappy she is now. She used to go out, she used to spend time with friends and listen to music around the house. She used to smile. She doesn't do my of that anymore. I have ruined her. I try to do things right, I try to make her happy but I don't succeed. I am a failure. I do everything wrong all the time.

I try to be a good mum but I don't spend enough time with my daughter. I don't think I'm a very good role model. She has more fun when she is with her father but I am too selfish to let her go and live with him.

I ruined his life as well. Wasted 11 years of his life. He could have been happy instead of being married to a closeted lesbian. 

I ruin everything I touch. 

No one would miss me if I was gone. My daughter would have her father, my love would easily find someone else, someone who is more fun, someone who is cleaner no not such a lazy slob. She could do so much better than me. I could be easily replaced at my job, I'm good at what I do but I'm a dime a dozen. I have no friends to miss me. 

I could be replaced in all areas of my life. I'm not special, I'm not unique, I'm not important. All I am is selfish. I'm too selfish to let go of the two people in this world that I love more than anything. They would be better without me but I would be nothing without them. I am too afraid to die and too selfish to let go of the people I love.

Maybe one day they will let go of me. Maybe one day they will get sick of being unhappy and will realise I am the reason for the unhappiness. Then maybe they will leave and be happy and I will be left with nothing. Maybe once I'm left with nothing the thought of death won't be so scary, maybe then it will seem a wonderful release from misery. But not yet, not while I still have something to hold onto.

Oh how I love them. I love them more than anything, why must I be such a burden? Why can't I be better than I am?