The Horrors of 2018

Page of a Notebook

Warning, this chapter consists of self h_rm, mentions d__th, mentions of s__cide, and probably more.

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Sometimes I just can't take it anymore. It all gets to a point where I'm at the lowest of lows and there's nothing I can do to bring back any zeal for living. This time was one of those times. I sat alone in a room with a knife next to me, salty little tears running down my face.

The helplines suck, taking hours to respond. I don't want to stress anyone by telling them these thoughts I have and I fear there's a chance that when I do express how I really feel, they're not going to understand it and just make things worse.
Talking about it didn't really work anyway, I don't have any therapist I can see and the last time I mentioned this to my close friends they either ended up feeling awful or didn't know what to do.
I can't blame them though. I myself didn't know exactly what to do whenever I had these thoughts. I couldn't bring myself to end it all without having second thoughts, so I resorted to distractions for temporary relief.

But sometimes those distractions aren't as helpful as I think they are.

Music helps a lot, and so does illustrating.. but other times I'm just not in the mood to listen to songs or pick up a pencil. In those other cases, I end up in a room, with the door locked, and a sharp object to me. Just the situation I'm in now.

What happens next?

It really isn't pleasant to think about, but when I'm feeling such a level of upset, it's the only option on the table that appeals to me.
I've been trying to stop. I really have. It's almost been a month since I last did it. Despite my efforts to prevent it, the thought of ending or h_rming myself is always wandering in the back of my mind. I want to push it away.

I'm almost always doing something to distract from those thoughts in my free time, whether it be talking to my friends or just listening to a playlist for hours. I constantly have a sketchbook with me whenever I go out. Otherwise, I'm left with those thoughts and I want d__th more than anything.

I don't really focus that hard on anything anymore, I have barely any motivation anyway. I can't tell one day from another sometimes. Every day, wasted daydreaming and whatnot because it lets an escape from reality open for a while.

My own mother says there's something wrong with me.

There probably is.

I regret a lot.

As memories flooded to me, there was one thought that stayed to linger in my mind.

I open the notebook I had and flip through. There it was, a bit tarnished but still there. It was a drawing of a dear relative that passed away. I miss him. He was the only one in my family that I could be myself around. He acted like my best friend. He was there for me. I wish I could still talk to him today, but sadly, a wish like that would never come true, unless I joined him myself. I want to keep living for the ones I care about.