so this time I grabbed it. you are reading this so i am still alive. I grabbed it and collapsed to the ground. why would he leave it out,. does he want me to kill myself. does he not believe how fucking serious I am. and like that. the thoughts of killing myself left. they silenced because shit was real. i was holding a gun capable of ending my life the safety was off and I bet it was loaded but i couldnt do it. I dont want to hurt anyone, i am just tired of this horrible existence... i crawled to my room unable to walk because of panic. fell down in front of my chair and tried to call my friend. she didnt answer. i was sweating, breathing hard, and fucking scared... i called my mom. someone I didnt want to worry or bother but someone i knew could help me. she answered asked me if i had eaten or talked to them. i said no. and when she wouldnt stop asking things i yelled he left the gun out again. and its in my fucking hand. she went from 0 to over 9000 really quick. i expressed that i couldnt let go of the gun. and i didnt know what to do. because panic. she eventually talked me to down i put the gun back in its holster and put the gun back on the counter. got some food finally and went back to my room. she talked with me for about 2 and a half hours before saying she was tired and needed sleep. then my friend came online. i told her what happened. she felt bad she wasnt there and we chatted about it and she said she was happy that i learned i could trust myself. which i agree. i not super scared of killing myself. the gun is still there. i can go grab it and use it if i wanted. but i am not. and that is progress.
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