Struggling with Life: The Burden of Living

it’s exhausting allowing myself to live another day when i don’t want to. having to interact with people and making sure they think everything is ok when in reality death consumes my mind. straining a smile and a laugh when needed, making sure to time it perfectly so i fall in line. because when you tell someone you want to die they look at you differently, like you’re fragile, bound to break at any moment, they seem to be nicer to you, to care way more, like they’d actually miss you when you’re gone. but it’s not about them. no. i am selfish when i do kill myself. but i can’t survive any longer. i need to rest.