So I attempted to kill myself a second time...

Something clearly wrong with me.

It's like a wave of everything I hate about myself rushed over me.

I hate my gender.

I hate my body.

I hate my relationships.

I hate myself and still believe no one will ever truly care. Some people may care for a moment and even maybe sad or try and help but ultimately it's like a wooden crutch.

It helps you stand up for the moment but if you keep leaning on it eventually it will snap and decay away and then you'll be gone.

I already cut one arm in the attempt so now I have an ugly scar that's going to form because of it which makes my body even worse.