Susan Smith?

No. I would never kill them, but I really did want to hurt them bad for wasting six dollars in stamps. I hate myself for not liking my kids. I don't want to be around them. I don't want to hear their voices. I don't want to console them. I want to run away. Far away. They did nothing to deserve me. I hate me. I am the worst mom. I hate being a mom. I make no difference in their lives. They will grow up and be shitty parents too. But I can't leave them. If I did, it would be familial suicide. Who cares. My family hates me anyway too. I am so angry right now, but I can't even leave the house without three little fuckers following me in hysterics. I am freaking out. Nobody could possibly understand. Nobody. I am alone in this. What a fucking surprise. They keep talking talking talking. I want to be gone. Away. Far. Dead. Death is the only way out. The only way they would not blame themselves for the rest of their lives. I might bump my heroin usage year to 30. Be gone before anyone knows. It's all a lie anyway. This life. My life. There is no satisfaction in this life. There never will be. Every triumph destroyed before it gets to be appreciated. I hate them. I chose to ruin my own life and I blame them. They didn't ask to be born into my hell. Hell I didn't ask for it. What should I do? Does anybody know? Can anyone help me?