My new project is to find the meaning of life.

Before, I have had these little research sessions where I just stick myself to a certain religion or disease and learn all I can about it, which lasts anywhere from 3 days to a few months. 
That is a coping mechanism of mine, I think. I try to know everything I can about something in order to not be so anxious when it comes to that subject.

This past year however, I did a special study.
I learned all I could on cutting, general self-harm, suicide, how to prevent these things, and why things like this happen, like the psychological and physical facts behind it.
For example, cutting can trigger your body into making the same chemical high you get when you do sports.
That's why it is so addicting, because it does, in fact, make you feel better. Cutters aren't just twisted little fucks. They do feel happier and calmer after cutting.

But you see, I've spent a lot of time dwelling over an aspect of death. 

A lot of people would consider it to be hard, knowing so many people who have been suicidal or committed suicide, then there are just the self-harmers, but in reality, it just changes a person's perspective. 

I know that life can be hard, unbearably so.
I know that people can get to that point where they don't know how to handle everything. So they turn to the least recommended option.
They look at their appearance and try to change that to be happier.
Or they look at themselves, forcing blame and regret onto their own shoulders, guilting themselves into a form of punishment.
And often  the torture they inflict on themselves can involve punishment in the form of changing who they are, how the appear, how they act...
I know that some people just decide to be over with punishing themselves and instead throw themselves off of a building or eat a bullet.
Or they take pills, thinking that they'll drift off into a dream-like state and never again have to face reality.
Sometimes, these are just attempts and they are found and get support they need, which may or may not be the tool they need to keep going.

The thing I know best however is how life can change in an instant. You can go from being a happy little middleschooler to somebody who can't wait for a reason to kill themselves or run away and break apart the barrier that keeps you hidden behind walls.
There are these fences that hold you in, these little cages that society sets up, saying "You're safe inside here", "We all love you in here", or even "Nobody will like you on the outside."
Some people figure out how they can live inside those little boxes, being perfectly content, not the slightest bit curious about what lies on the outside.

Then there are the people who challenge the barbed wire that closes them in. They climb over it, bleeding as they go, not afraid to stain their uniforms, not scared to face the delicious red hues that could envelop them or force them to bleed out.

I'm determined to bleed out, all over the place, so that people are forced to see my stains and all that I have done to create those worldly tarnishes.

So, let me reword my goal.

I don't want to find the meaning of life.

I want to find the meaning I have in life.

I want to find what I can do to change future generations. 

I want to know how I should live my life to where I am perfectly content with it.

I don't officially believe in an afterlife just yet, so I'd like to make the life I have worth living.

Warning: You might not want to read this - I'm not sure how dark this'll turn out to be...

So the first time I ever had a hint of suicidal ideation was about three or four months ago. And to think about it wasn't intentional.

 I remember that I was just laying on my futon/bed, waiting for a text from a friend, and I thought, Wouldn't I just be happier if I was dead? After I had the thought, I kind of stopped thinking for a second, then rewound. What? Had I really just though that? I was startled into speechless-ness. Then I thought about it a bit more and realized that it was logical, I could be happier if I was dead. Since then I have had several thoughts similar to that.

Now don't be alarmed! I do not plan on killing myself anytime soon. I believe it would be too selfish, too uncaring. Even though I have a firm belief that it may be only from psychological dependency that people have ever befriended or loved me, they still have done so. By taking my own life they could possibly begin treading in lakes of guilt or thinking they weren't good enough at supporting me and showing me their love. I don't wish that to happen. So, until I possibly screw everyone over or move off to another continent, cutting off all connections to those that I grew up with, I doubt I will kill myself. Not unless if I have a moment of pure demurral - but even then I'd probably call up a close friend and talk to them about what goes on with my life.

Just a note about Suicidal Thoughts, no big deal.