Pain.

Sitting in my room, feeling so empty. Empty. Starting college soon and I don't think I'm ready for it. I just don't. My own brother asked me to kill myself. Little did he know, that's what I'm trying to do, its all I can seem to think about; my own death. This pain is killing me. I can't do this anymore. I've had enough. Yes, I'm well aware that someone has it worse, that my problems are so small, but it still hurts. It hurts me enough to make me think of ending my own life. She asked me what do I want? what am I trying to prove of doing this. I am not trying to prove anything. I just want to be happy. I don't want to feel as lonely as I am now. I want the old me back, the happy, the loud me that I used to know before. I'm losing myself each day. I don't even know who I am anymore. My therapist told me that I'm an introvert. That I'm reserved. That was not who I was before. Things have changed. And I'm changing into the worst person I've known. Pain does that to people.