Dear blank page in the book I am supposed to be writing in as therapy,

It has been exactly 18 days since Blake died and I tried to kill myself, which obviously didn't work, because fuck... I am still here and I am still alive and I am hating every single moment of this and I can't see what writing in a fucking journal is going to help me at this stage. If I cut the pages of this book enough times with a pen, will it actually make me not want to cut myself and bleed out on this sick looking green carpet in my room? I think not....