Sick

I feel sick.
So extremely sick all the time, the aches and pains and cuts and bruises I never whine about. The one thing I want to talk to people about I'm scared to, the scars. I know it isn't the cheeriest topic, but they're there and they're real. I hate it so much, knowing I can't get rid of them and looking down and seeing them. It makes me nauseous.
I almost said last night to a friend, I feel like giving up. I want to give up, but I don't know how, my brain is getting closer and closer to the off switch. I have actually stopped trying on being happy. This is the weirdest lapse of depression I've had I feel flat and boring and nothing's exciting any more. So like the cliché writer I want to be I drink the pain away. It's good it helps, sure I'll probably have a good liver disease by my late 30's... But the human race is selfish and we want to sit here and just bathe in the stories we share.