Over time, life has worn me down. It has made me tired. It has resulted in me losing hope. It has created devastating despair for me to endure on a daily, even hourly, basis. Nothing gets any better. Ever. I know I'm depressed and I've thought about what, if anything, could be done to bring me out of it. I've thought long and hard about where I am in life, where there is to go, what could help. The answer I've come up with is nothing can help at this point anymore. Nothing. The thoughts of getting out of this life are what I think about now. It's tiring, too. Living, or whatever the hell it is that I'm doing, has become too much. It sure isn't living. I'm already more than half dead. More like 90% dead, really. I'm dead inside. That's how I feel. I'm just taking up space and there's no good reason for doing that anymore. Maybe the next person who takes up the space I was occupying can make a better go of it. I didn't choose to ctb. It chose me. Now my focus is on getting to that point and embracing it.