Reaching Out for Help, for A Friend.

The First.

Reaching Out for Help, For A Friend.

Dear you who's reading this.

Thank you.

I always try to make people feel good. Tell them they're not alone. Tell them that they're loved and that suicide or self-harm isn't the answer. That they should ask for help, talk to people about their problems.

I always give them tips and advice on any kind of matter. I'm always the one that gives out the best advice. And that isn't necessarily a bad thing.

A few days ago I saw a post on Instagram and it said: "People who give the best advice hurt the most.", or something along those lines. And at some levels I can relate to that. Truly.

I've never been the one to ask advice because I'm hurting or because I need it. I've always kept to myself and I hate it.

It's time I write how I feel. It's time I reach out for help or advice.

You're probably wondering what is this person going on about. If you really want to understand the reason of why I've decided to do this or create this blog.

I should probably start from the start.

Almost a year ago something happened. I can remember the day as if it were yesterday. And till this day I'm not sure I know how I survived.

Before it happened the events that led me to it were the losing of all my friends, I've never felt so alone before, I truly felt alone and as if no one was there for me and no one understood how or what I felt. I felt like a zombie, I had no purpose and nothing was interesting anymore. School wasn't my main priority because it just wasn't what I wanted anymore. I was alone and in quarantine for more than two months and the only friend I had was the internet.

And we all know the internet can be a dark place.

So, I was doing stuff that at that time were no big deal to me, or that I saw nothing wrong with it. Until it happened.

Almost a year ago my dad found my nudes that I had send to someone. And I don't want to go into details, but it was a really hard time. I wasn't sure I was going to make it. His disappointment, his judgment and his mental abuse was too much to the point it made me think of suicide.

I wanted to kill myself. I remember the late nights I spend googling ways to kill myself.

And I was really disappointed of all the tips and ideas I found. I was disappointed with the people who had the audacity to write articles in helping people kill themselves.

I was a coward and lucky I didn't have the strength and courage to actually use one of the ways and end my life.

Unfortunately there's people who do use them and it breaks my heart. To the people who have lost loved ones, I'm sorry for your loss and may their souls rest in peace.

Although I'd love to talk more about this topic and I somehow managed to turn the topic and make it about helping people.

That is not the reason why I chose to write this. And maybe another time I will have the chance to talk more about it.

The reason behind this post is: how do you go on about or what can you do when you're mentally abused? How do you reach out for help? How do you talk to people about it? Any of these questions are good to me. I mean there shouldn't really be a question, we should be able to just talk about it. But sometimes we can't and that truly terrifying.

I did some research and this is what I found:

After having done that research I wanted to share my problem, I'm not sure if I can call it that. But anyway.

So, ever since my dad found my nudes my life has changed for the worst.

I don't think he truly realizes how much his words hurt. And although he reacted to it better than I had ever imagined I just wish he would stop.

I don't think he knows in how much pain he puts me through. Or how he makes me feel whenever he says stuff.

A part of me doesn't blame him, because I never have told him how I feel. Communication isn't our strongest point and I'm kind of surprised because if you were to see us, you'd say we were the best of friends. Or maybe I'm just good at faking it. I don't know.

As I was saying communication has never worked out for us and we've never had deep or meaningful conversations. He's never asked how I'm truly feeling.

He's always screaming at me. Cursing at me or either reminding me of what I've done and that I will never succeed in life.

That I his only daughter will never achieve anything in life. He doesn't know the impact his words have on my self-esteem. He doesn't know how much I hate myself because of him.

I once had a dream of becoming a writer or graduating university. Have a family.

And now?

There's nothing.

I sometimes wonder, why am I still breathing? Why do I still attend school?

What purpose in life do I have?

And sometimes I just want to end it all.

So now, my dear reader. Is there anything you can tell me that will help me? That will make me take it easy on myself. That will make me love myself just the tiniest.

Because I don't know what to do. I don't know how not to think of killing myself. I don't know if I can take it any longer.

So me, the girl who's good at giving advice and who likes to help people in need, is asking for help...