Saturated Mind: 57 Days

Let the countdown begin: 57 Days

My mind is saturated with evil thoughts and useless ideas. My mind is about to explode because it has over-run its limit. Confused and lost. Pushed outside the lines by the power of the world. But the voices in my head do not die:
She pushes the razor into her wrist. She pushes so damn hard and deep into her wrist. And no blood is seen. "How?," she asks herself. So she pushes even deeper. Now the razor is so deep, she can feel it wrestling with her bone. And still, no blood. "How could this be?," she screams, tears rolling down her pale cheek. She gives up. Looking at the her reflection in the river, she repeatedly mumbles, under her breath:

"Why do I want to die?
Why do I not apply
To the category of perfect life?"

Taking the last look at her blood-shot eyes, she steps forward. Smiling. Not regretting. Feeling happy for the first time ever, knowing it will all end too soon. And as she took her last breath, wind brushing her greasy, dark hair, the hand of fate failed to show up. She let go. Of everything.

Do you recognize this girl?