❤️ 11th September 2017 - Time To Give Up?

I'm tired and weary. I can't seem to sell my house, nor get a job. Money's running out. I really want to just give up now. Nothing is going right for me. I'm just not cut out for life. 

Last night for example I was cutting some bacon up for my cat and I managed to cut my finger. My initial reaction was to flick my finger in pain before I went to suck it. Then I saw it was pouring with blood. Went and got a plaster and returned to the conservatory only to find blood EVERYWHERE!! On the floor, on there white freshly painted walls, on the doors, windows, table, table mats! 

Whilst cleaning that up I also broke one of my leopard print wine glasses which I used to dress the table. I only had two, so the other one is useless now.

This morning, whilst surveying the damage I noticed even more blood. It was fucking everywhere, including the ceiling.

No doubt many people who view my house, purely do so, so they can see the junkie's house! Therefore splats of blood will only lead them to think I was banging up in there (I only ever use in my bedroom).

I was also horrendously sick this morning. I still feel rough now. This leads me to think of the unprotected sex I had with N when I was totally out of it. 

Finally, I've managed to lose my Oyster Card. That's a fiver plus whatever travel was on it, lost.

I can't seem to buy bit coins and I've only got one night of sleeping tablets left.

I really want to give up!

I would prefer to overdose with a plastic bag over my head, but without bit coins buying enough medication to overdose will be impossible. I really don't want to hang, but I might just have to.

I'm worried I'll get the knot wrong and suffer... but my choices are limited. 

I'd rather get incredibly drunk, neck the tablets and then put a plastic bag over my head.

The saddest thing is whenever I'm thinking of ending it all, Orion will suddenly want to be near me.

And then I have the hassle of getting this blog sent out to the press. What if I send the blog out and don't die? What if I leave instructions for someone else to do it and they don't.

Revealing the horrors bestowed on me is imperative.

All I know is I really want out of life. I want to escape those people and the misery they inflict on me. I can't take anymore.