Dear Diary,

I...Almost jumped off a skyscraper. Almost. Until I told myself this isn't the way. ..I have to kill myself in a peaceful manner. I will think of something else. Who cares if I die, anyway? My family? Pfft, ya right. I bet they would want me gone. I could see it in their eyes. I hate life. I hate death. So where am I suppose to go? I am done. No more writing for today. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe I would have killed myself by then. I am not needed. Not by Nova Scotia, The Nordics, or anyone else. I am going to a therapist...yes. Denmark got me one. I hate therapists. Does he honestly think this will help?