I feel like all I ever do is hurt people, and myself. I don’t want to, nor would I EVER kill myself. But if there were to be some event where I happened to die in, I don’t think I’d mind. I’m not suicidal but I have these images in my head. These images I excused as just OCD thoughts, which for the most part they are. I’ve always been told suicide is the most selfish thing a person could possibly do. And I’d never purposefully want to put my loved ones in that kind of pain. I know they love me, that’s not a doubt. I just don’t think they should. I’m so grateful for them and I love them with my heart and soul but I feel like such a stain. I’ve found myself begging for the cosmos to strike me down and just end it naturally. It doesn’t happen, sometimes I envision it happening. I don’t want to die, but I feel like i wouldn’t care if I did. I want to leave, I’ve been trapped my whole life. What if I’m supposed to be trapped? Physically, emotionally, mentally. I love them so I can’t.