The day this happened, I was in Kep looking at the sea thinking of how much I wanted to die and maybe I should just swim and swim until I disappeared. Or maybe I should buy more of the new pills they have in the pharmacy there and I just take all of those pills and see what could happen [to me.] I ran away from my husband at this point and I have my phone in airplane mode because 1. I don't want him to call me. I don't want to be found. 2. I don't want to google if the new medication can actually kill me or not. I shouldn't, I shouldn't, I shouldn't, and 3. I don't want to keep wondering why you don't reply.
I promise myself I'm going to wait until sunset and make a better decision from there. I just need to breathe. It's just a fucking storm.
I turn off airplane mode and your message gets through. I can't even be friends with you. What a fucking failure.
