I bonded with my dad a little bit over the holiday. I knew his brother, and my uncle killed himself but I think visiting the rest of his side of the family recently really out everything into perspective. I attempted suicide when I was much younger. I didn't know just how deep it went. How close my dad and his brother were. I didn't know just how painful it was. I thought I got over my ideations, I thought I grew up and left it all behind but it's coming back. With how the world is changing I find myself thinking of ending it more often than I would like. I don't want to do it. But when I argue in my head there's this sick part that thinks it's the most logical thing to do. I'm suffering and I need to end it. That I should let go. But that's so incredibly selfish. I think I'm a terrible person. For myself. And for others. I don't know what to do about it. I'm just rotting in this constant cycle and have no one to talk about it to.