Why aren’t my friends there when I need them or anyone for that matter? I’m always left alone with my darkest thoughts, only to continue to consume me. I thought they were gone for good, but I was mistaken. Things you used to know so well disappear, and what are you left with? I’m left with two bottles of pills that are supposed to help. And yet every time I look at them I think of how bad they can harm me… It has never sounded like a more splendid idea.