Not really a poem

I always act happy…
but inside I hate myself so much I think about dying everyday.
But then again at the same time I want others to be happy.
And them smiling makes me think one more happy person,
and that I can be the person to go through the sadness for them.
But it’s a mixed feeling;
I’m so jealous of all those people.
How is it that they at times they come to love life…
But I can never come to appreciate the precious life God has given me?
Why did he put me here?
What is my purpose in this world..?
I’m sorry for putting out my feelings here,
I don’t know where else to spill…