Dear X,
I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. If you tell yourself something enough times you can end up making yourself believe it. This has worked for me a lot in the past, so I figured why not try it now? With Tate back I guess I at least want to try to live. Who am I kidding? X, you and I both know that I want to die more than anything. The only reason I try is because that stupid fucking thing Tate said to me. "You made me feel worthless. Like I didn't belong." I don't like hurting that douchebag. "Just don't kill yourself. You owe me that." I don't owe him shit, all right? I feel like I do, which pisses me off because he just put me through hell.
About a year after my sister left me I had a dream that she was dead. No one ever talked about her anymore and when I brought up the topic my parents yelled at me. I truly believed she was dead. I spent night after night staying up late hiding underneath her bed and bawling. That's when my parents first realized I had troubles sleeping. From then on I had visions of her dead body; fantasies and lost hopes of her living.
Keith hugged me yesterday and I felt like I was obligated to hug him back. I've never thought of Keith as the sensitive type, but one time he had a breakdown in the bathroom. He was crying and pounding in the stalls and no one did anything. His friend was in there with him, that's the only reason I know about it. I don't like thinking about that, I prefer remembering how he made everyone laugh. After all, that's what we always choose. When someone dies we forget the bad and remember the good, that's how it works.
In math class a couple of days ago Ella and Katie were laughing at each other for dumb things that they did. Katie was mainly laughing because Ella was laughing, and her laugh is contagious. I don't know what Ella did this time, but it made me feel like laughing. And I tried to laugh. And I tried to at least smile, but damnit I couldn't. I tried thinking about all the times where the pair made me laugh so hard I almost peed, but it didn't do shit. All I could think about was how she never took off her bracelets and she always knew how many there were and which ones went on which arm and the pictures-the pictures-the pictures of her blades and images of her crying in her bed kept appearing and I couldn't understand. I still don't understand how people can be so fucking happy yet not be happy at all, rarely feeling true happiness because this is all just an illusion. I know it's an illusion, so do you. I still cannot fucking stress how hard it is to try make everyone think that you're funny and careless and everything is is okay at home when it's not. And the people-these people-they don't understand how hard it is when you have to keep telling yourself 'just one more day, you can get through today' every single day and you just spend your life trying to get through the week. They talk about self harm and suicide in hushed whispers as if it's forbidden, taboo even. They act as if no one in their school is depressed, completely ignoring the kid who shot himself over the summer. I can't believe the number of 'emo' and 'cutter' jokes they make, I don't like ignoring it.
I refuse to have a funeral full of fake bitches who 'I could've talked to because they were always there for me, they truly cared.' A room full of people from my school pretending they were best friends with me when I absolutely HATED them, using my death as another 'tragedy', an excuse of why they have such an awful life when in reality they're attention seeking whores. X, you know exactly who the fuck I'm talking about. Why the hell can't people like that realize, oh, I don't know, there are legitimately depressed people in this world and they're scared to tell people because of all the fakers out there in fear of being called attention seeking. Disgusting little shits who have to pretend that they're depressed to get attention need to wake the fuck up and realize that THEY ARE NOT THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE AND THE REASON PEOPLE DON'T PAY ATTENTION TO THEIR DRAMATIC SPOTLIGHT SEEKING ASSES IS BECAUSE THEY ARE SICK OF THAT SHIT AND THEY REALIZE 'WOAH, THERE ARE ACTUAL IMPORTANT THINGS IN LIFE TO WORRY ABOUT, NOT SOME PERSON WHO NEEDS EVERYONE TO NOTICE THEM TO FEEL IMPORTANT.
I cannot stress how hard it is for me to go without yelling at cunts like this every day of my life.
-Casely
