I shouldn't want it to but I do

I've never been one to contemplate suicidal thoughts for anything more then the psychoanalytical part of my mind but lately the thought has been more appealing. Not that I actually think I would. I couldn't. Nor do I exactly want to. Just the idea of everything being done is nice, although so is a pause button for life. I am so stressed, I just don't show it the way people usually do. I don't ever want to break down and cry or completely freak out. I just shut down. I lose my drive for everything, I become sediment and unwilling. No one seems to understand this and just continues pushing me and pushing me. I feel like I am about to explode, like I'm right on the edge of that cliff, one tap would send me hurdling downwards but one tap doesn't do it. Unfortunately. Somehow I pull myself together, I don't let myself lose it like that. I think it makes it worse. Much, much worse. 

My self esteem is at an all time low, as well as my confidence. Things have never been this way for me, I have always been a confident girl. I'm insecure and upset all the time. My happy moments are becoming far and few between and even when they are there they feel wrong, like I don't deserve them. I don't feel like myself, I feel like the happy me just got up and left one day while I was sleeping and I pass her by on occasion but once she is gone I just feel more empty then before. Like someone has punched a hole through my chest. I ache, a dull lifeless ache. It eats at me none the less. I can hardly breathe at times. 

I don't understand what is wrong with me.

There are nights I sometimes hope I have the strength not to get out of my bed in the morning. I know that sounds backwards, but I am afraid to admit to anyone that I can't handle this. So I put on a strong face and drag myself from one thing to the next with my false mask. I wish I had the strength to tell someone, but I have been shot down by anyone I open up to about this, saying "You don't really feel like that, your just being dramatic." And things like that. It gets me thinking, am I just being dramatic? Then the feelings return and crush me with their weight until I can't move and I am back where I started. I know these things a real, I just don't know why they are happening to me. Why I feel this way.

Like I said, I have never thought of suicide as a way out before, I would never take that route, I have lost a dear friend to it. But the thought of everything just being done entices me.

 I know I shouldn't want it to, but I do.