Another shitty but depressing thought

I'm going to die, we're all going to die, but I'm not expecting a happy ending before my death. Surely mine will be something bad, something sad, something that will make people feel as much pity for me as for a scrawny stray dog. I've been self-harming since I was 10; I don't know any better. And recently I saw a tweet from someone who said they saw very few elderly people with self-inflicted wounds, maybe because we never get old. And I suppose they're right. People like me aren't destined for old age or a happy ending, only to sink into their sadness and loneliness until, at some point, they finally make that decision.

I think I've always known that this is the end that awaits me, which is why death doesn't terrify me and is my solution to even the smallest problems.