Silently standing at the boundary...

The last ten years of my life have just hit me like a wrecking ball. I am eighteen yet am deep, a seeker of knowledge; feeling as though I have lived life and learned of it. I spend my time inside my head -intellectualizing- permitting myself to think, but not feel. This is why I believe suicide is the only way to stop the feeling. Drugs and alcohol no longer do it. Writing thoughts and perceptions only holds so much attention... you slip into another realm. A parallel. Things look the same but are they? Scars on my body, tell where I've been. Never quite succeeded at my attempts, someone always finds me. Two days ago however, a friend whom I trust 100% took me out to coffee at my high school lunch hour. After a pack of cigarettes and six cups of coffee (the only thing I can keep down) she convinced me I have clinical depression. But then the intellect kicks in and I stop. Me. Depressed. No. This is me, and why did she take me out for coffee anyway. I must have provided a "red flag", you know those "warning signs" that under the surface of a perceivably normal person, lurks dark cynical thoughts of death and what lies beyond. For us every day is a struggle, every breath a fight for survival. My entire life has been devoted, it seems, to nothing but hurt and pain. She asked me to phone her if I felt I was going to try something "destructive" how to explain that if that was the case I'd have to be on the phone with her all day, hopeless. She is my coach and a youth worker at my school. But I fear death it's odd, I am a non'practicing mormon, yet the ideals cannot be erased from your mind. So death entices me only further to discover questions I cannot answer. (if there are any mormons out there who can discuss this issue give a shout). I am here, but not to stay.