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I lied.

For the first time since I began telling you guys all about myself, I lied to you.

Perhaps that means you can never believe a word I’ve said or will say. Maybe that’s true. But before you make that judgment, I will tell you exactly what happened and why.

I didn’t intend to lie. It wasn’t like I was hiding the truth for some reason. I lied because my mind was not willing to speak about the possibility of what was true. You know that my writing comes from my innermost being, without being filtered by the part of my mind that filters my actual words. But this time, from the most hidden part of my mind, the truth about what I was writing was blocked as unthinkable, unmentionable, and most unusually of all, unwritable.

But I am going to write it now because you need to know. As I said in the previous issue, I am depressed. But unlike what I said in the previous issue, I have not overcome it. My mind wanted to have overcome it, and perhaps I wanted to think that I was moving past it, but through all the turmoil that I am enduring, the things that I thought had changed are all the same, because they were not the source of my turmoil.

I told you that I am not suicidal. That was not a lie when it was written. And it is not really a lie now. But now, I am at the point where I would just as soon not exist. I don’t want to hurt the people that love me, but I am tired of being here, and I don’t know why.

I don’t know what’s depressing me, either. Everything is going well. I have the whole world at my fingertips. But then again, that’s what they say so often about suicide victims, too. I guess it’s not uncommon for people with wonderful lives to be depressed. But the problem I have is that I can’t think of why I feel this way. All I know is that my mind is rolling with pain that I can’t understand. I talk to God, but He seems distant. I talk to my family as little as I can, because all it does is stress them and me. I talk to my friends as much as I can, because I don’t want them to be as unaware as people so often are. And I talk to you because I need to put it all somewhere for posterity.

I’ll talk more later, but I wanted you to know.

I love you, my reader, whoever you are. Thank you for being here. Your reading this means more to me than you could ever know.

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