I love baking. It's my passion. I love the smell of fresh bread in the morning, and the way the dough feels in my hands. I love the satisfaction of taking a perfectly baked cake out of the oven, and the way the frosting melts in my mouth.

But sometimes, in the middle of the night, I have these horrible intrusive thoughts. Thoughts of killing myself in the most passionate way possible.

I see myself jumping off a building, or slashing my wrists open and watching the blood flow out. I see myself eating poisonous berries, or swallowing a bottle of pills. I see myself hanging from a noose, or jumping in front of a train.

I don't know why I have these thoughts. They terrify me. But I can't seem to stop them.

I try to distract myself during the day, so I don't have to think about it. But at night, when I'm alone in my bed, they come back to me.

And I can't help but wonder, what would it be like to die? Would it be painful? Or would it be peaceful?

I don't want to die. I really don't. But sometimes, in the middle of the night, I can't help but think about it. And it's all I can do to stop myself from acting on those

But in the end, I know there's only one way I want to go. I want to bake myself a cake, and eat it until I'm so full that I can't breathe. I want to take in so much sugar that it kills me. And as I'm dying, I'll know that I did something that I loved, and that made me feel loved.