dear phil ;; phan

15th of april

Dear Phil,

I'm struggling.
I'm really struggling.
I need help.
But I can't get it.
The voices won't allow it.
They tell me I deserve to die.
They tell me that no one loves
me.
Not even you.
I'm starting to believe them,
Phil.
Maybe I'm better off dead.
You don't need me.
No one needs me.
Why would they?
I'm just me.
Nothing special.
I don't know why you've put
up with me for so long.
Honestly.
The voices are telling me that
I'm not good enough; that I'll
never be good enough.
They're screaming at me, Phil.
I can't escape them.
I haven't slept in days.
I'm withering away.
But it's okay.
It makes the voices happy.
It makes them scream less.
But it doesn't stop their demands.
Maybe I'll just make them happy.
We're all going to die sometime anyway.

Dan.