Escape from the world.

The more time goes on, the more I become tired of trying to be “normal.” I want life to be easier, but that means fully letting go of my illness and my mind tells me that is a ridiculous idea. I do have moments of recognising the value of living, but they are gone before I know it.
I know my feelings of wanting to die aren’t self inflicted, but I do sometimes feel selfish for wishing away my life away while others starve to death, or die as innocent victims of violence. But I can’t blame having a mental illness on myself!
The part of me that is purely my personality wants to relish every moment, and be able to let obsessions and bad behaviours go, and as I can’t, I feel like I’m waiting for rock bottom to come.
It feels like I hit the lowest emotional point, then somebody pulls the floor from beneath me and makes me fall further. Although I know that in reality, being in hospital would be incredibly tough, I do find myself wishing that somebody would admit me, so I didn’t have to spend everyday trying to get on with my life AND get through the mental challenges.