I can't fucking do this anymore

I'm tired. I can't fucking handle this shit anymore.

He got me again. Yesterday. On my way in to work. He was waiting for me when I got out of my car. I didn't even see him. He dragged me into the trees and he beat me. He cracked my ribs. He raped me. He sodomized me. He came inside me because he wanted to get me pregnant again, so that he could come back and kill the baby. Again. I had to lie to my family and friends about why I was home, had to tell them I took a vacation day I didn't remember I had. I spent 3 hours in the ER being examined and xrayed and poked and prodded. And then I came home and took a bunch of pills, drank a bunch of whiskey, and slashed the fucking shit out of my leg. Why couldn't I have just died? I tried so hard. And yet I still woke up this morning. I'm still here. And everyone around me is hurting because of me. I can't tell my family the truth because there's too much going on. They'd tell me to suck it up and deal because they all have real problems. I'm so sorry that my being raped and sodomized isn't a real problem. I'm sorry that me wanting to die isn't a real problem. My best friend wants me admitted to a psych ward. She's freaking out so badly she may lose her job if she can't pull it together. And it is all my fault. Why did I have to tell anyone the truth? Why couldn't I have just kept my mouth shut like I always do? Why did I have to cut on my leg instead of my wrist? If it had been my wrist, I would be dead right now. I wouldn't have to feel so fucking guilty about ruining everyone's life.

Tonight, maybe I'll get it right. Tomorrow, maybe I won't wake up. And the world will still turn. Life will go on. And honestly? I think a lot of people will be happier for it.