Photo by Viktor Jakovlev
I’ve contemplated suicide every day of my life, since the age of eleven. My ability to procrastinate knows no bounds. Eleven is when I first said out loud that I hated myself, that I shouldn’t have been born, and that I wanted to die. But to say that you want to die isn’t really accurate — you want to live, and you want for your life to have meaning; it’s just that you strongly suspect that it’s never going to happen.