What do you do when the world needs you?

It isn't an option to quit. I have too many responsibilities to up and leave. So I'm an advocate for self-euthenasia...for those 70 year old bipolar sufferers who've lived their lives accordingly, and are just fucking sick of handling it.

My family wouldn't be a family if it weren't for me. And I'm clinically, certifiably loony. But I hold together with opoxy and string. Duct tape at times. I glue, tape, staple myself together to get us through.

So necessary. It's safe to say that's why I stick around. It isn't much for myself. It's more for them.

I'm bound here by my love for them all. With chains, tacks, and weights I'm bound. Guilt keeps me alive and miserable.

I just want to slit my wrist right now. Let myself bleed into the dirt.

Fuck, I want to leave.