Death.

I've gotten to that point again. That point where I hate everything and I can't help it. I can't stand people I love, and I hate myself even more. I walk in a room and can only think about how I could die. If I choked on the food I'm eating, if someone around me has a gun, if I get hit by a car, if I just pass out and don't wake up. All I can think about is death. And it's not even just for me. My head tortures me with nightmares of friends and family dying. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't do anything. All I am is hate. That's it. 

And I can't fucking do anything about it.