I have suffered from Bipolar Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder for the majority of my life. I refuse now to associate myself with my illnesses. However suicide was a vague dream I strived for several times in my youth. Majorly stemming from the illnesses, my true wish has always been to seek and find death at a young age. The wish has only become clarified as I begin to witness those I love the most pass on before me. It shears into my chest, leaving not one breath but far too many heartbeats. I fear as I age the way I must waver through life witnessing death at its most brutal. For example my grandmother's morphine-induced coma by way of undetected and sudden terminal liver cancer. I continue to cry and to fear.