Crash and burn

I don't know what to type or how to type it. But I have to. Last night, I promised myself I would. It seemed very important that this get written down. Like I saw truth past lies and needed to remember it. I couldn't type it out because I was curled up in bed, but I told myself I would once I got up.

I can't be happy.
That's my job, in life. To make others happy but never be happy myself. I can help others but no one can help me. That's all my life will be. I'll always feel like this. It's never going to end.

I'm a freak.
I can't even cope with the very basics of life. Even the smallest of things that are so easy to everyone else, I can't handle. I'm pathetic, weak, freakish.
Also; I kept saying I wanted the pain to stop. But there wasn't even any pain. There was an ache in my stomach and I was sobbing so much that I nearly puked, but I wasn't upset. But I couldn't stop saying I wanted the hurt to stop.
The other day, when I cut, I remember thinking "Why am I doing this? It doesn't even feel good. And I don't feel bad." even though I was feeling like shit... thinking that scared me. I don't know what happened.
These things happen a lot. Feeling SO intensely yet at the same time feeling nothing at all.
I don't know what's wrong with me. I wish someone could tell me what's wrong with me in a way that makes sense.
i'mwrongi'mwrongi'mwrongi'mwrong

No matter what I do, it comes back to this. No matter what changes I make or what I do, I always feel this way. I haven't let myself feel quite this bad in a while, but even still I felt like shit. I can't be happy. I won't ever be. Nothing will get better, not really.

I spent last night curled in the fetal position sobbing into a pillow. I couldn't stop thinking. Everything was so much, and it still is. I don't see any options - no take-able or pleasant ones, anyways.
I could have done it. I would have. I didn't, because I promised. That doesn't mean I didn't want to.

I don't want to do this for another 85 years. I know I promised that I'd make sure to live to 101 so She could live to 100.
I don't want to, though.
Can I please kill myself? I'm serious. I'm asking permission because I don't know what else to do, and I promised. And I won't break a promise. But, I just... I don't want to be here. I really don't.