May 1st Friday.

Ive literally got nothing to say anymore. I was at the cafe with my friends and I just kept smiling at them when they were talking to me. I barely say a word. I dont see the point in going if im honest when I have nothing to say, but i go because I force myself to socialise. All I want to do is lie in my bed, curled up in a ball and let time pass me by. I really dont see a point to my existence. Im losing the will to live. Im hanging on by a thread. Don't know how im going to live for the rest of my life. I dont want to grow old, I just dont want to be here anymore. Im so depressed its unreal. Depression will take my life one day. I have enough medication in to end my life, I think about it most days, but like I say, I just can't leave my boys without a mum. So I have to keep getting through each day regardless of how I feel. Life is tough, it really is hard work for me. Its a battle to get through each day without killing myself. Thank god ive got my boys to keep me going. I think im always going to feel this way, ill be grieving for the rest of my life. They say it gets easier as time goes on, its getting no easier for me. The pain I feel is just as bad as it was the day my father and son passed away. I think about them all through the day, everyday. Ive got PTSD from them dying, its horrible. I just can't deal with their deaths and I dont know how to. From seeing them both every single day and then to never seeing them again, its hard to comprehend. I just can't accept what's happened. Oh how I wish I could of saved them both. If only they knew how much im struggling without them. I never got to say goodbye to my son and it kills me inside. Ill never know why he had to end his own life. Cancer stole my dad from me. Everyday I wake up feels like torture. Another day without them. Youd think God would just put me out of my misery, but he wakes me up everyday and I know its because ive got to look after my boys. If I didn't have them, id be dead many years ago. My last suicide attempt was the day I collected my dad's ashes, I had to be sedated and put on breathing equipment. I promised myself and my boys id never do it again. I believe my dad sent me back, it wasn't my time to die. I dont cut myself anymore because Jesse has already asked what's happened to my arms. I was honest with him and told him I did it, I just didn't go into detail. He knows I did it, he just doesnt know how. I hate the summer days because I can't cover my arms up. I think about self harming alot, but I dont want my kids to see my arms covered in blood. It use to take away the pain I was feeling. I pray through everything now, a healthier coping mechanism. Im glad I found my faith all those years ago, about 5 years ago I think it was and ive prayed ever since. I pray every single day for strength to get me through the day and by the grace of God, im still here.