Taylor Swift Comfort Imagines

Not driving off a cliff is trying

TW: suicidal thoughts and plans, bullying, abuse, depression

just a fan <3 

I walked somewhere, somewhere far away so I didn't have to come home to my parents rage about my grades. Not that they care where I am. They're probably working or drunk. My grades are the only thing they pay attention to. They're not awful, but, they're not as good as they used to be, and that confuses and disappoints them. It confuses and disappoints me too. Sometimes, I get lost in thought, scrolling through old pictures. Seeing who I used to be is disorienting: full of life and emotions, successful, and genuinely happy. The girl I used to be believed that her best was enough, people liked her for who she was, and that she deserved food. This is me trying plays in my airpods, and I sourly laugh to myself because the universe seems to know what I'm about to do.

My parents don't understand what's going on with me. I've tried to explain how it's just harder now: colleges are more competitive, schoolwork is harder, sports and hobbies aren't for health but for another shot at scholarships and fame. I am tired of getting yelled at. I am tired of being defenseless: being asked why something happened, and when I give an explanation, getting yelled at about how it's an excuse, or I'm playing the victim. I am tired of being mentally battered, backed into a corner, berated, and sometimes slapped until I snap and then they act like I'm crazy. When I get a grade lower than a B+, they lock me in my room with no food or water. If I have school the next day, they just don't let me eat for a few days, so I can "learn my lesson". Ironically, it's very difficult to focus when your stomach is empty. I've tried to explain myself, I've tried to do better. I've only found out that I'm not smart enough, not socially skilled, not talented enough to have a place in this world. 

I stared down at the roaring river below me, anticipation swirling in the air, mixed with relief and grief. Grief at the person I could've been, had I no trauma or depression holding me back. As I stare down, I see my reflection looking up at me, luring me down to the waters. I stare at her, and she is already dead. She is me. I lean against the railing, staring at the signs and nets meant to stop people like me for no other reason than some might consider a tragedy.

I've been standing here, staring down for a while. Because I can't gather the courage to go ahead and jump. Not because I care about myself. Because part of me ponders on the possibility I would inflict pain and blame onto people's lives. But, would anyone really miss me? All I do is listen to music and study. I don't have much to offer this world except for vacant stares and late replies. I feel like every time I walk into a room, I bring everyone down and watch as discomfort and dread settle in the atmosphere. I know I am viewed as a situation to be handled, a problem with no solution, a box to be checked off. Side eyes and pursed lips, exchanged glances of "what is she doing here" swirl through the air, complementing their laughter. They're not laughing because I am funny, they laugh because they think my existence is a joke. So do I. How did I make it this far without realizing the burdensome nature of my existence? 

The prophecy starts playing in my airpods, Taylor Swift understanding how I feel better than anyone I've tried to talk to. I know it sounds stupid and infatuated, but she truly seems to understand how I feel. She probably sees me as profit and a bolster to her success and no more. If the people who interact with me every day don't care, how could someone who never met me? I've tried talking to my family and friends, believe me, I've tried. I'm brushed off and dismissed, remedied with the "everyone has to deal with that". I'm afraid my cries for help come across as whispers of dissatisfaction. The cries of a teenage girl navigating the normal struggles of life, why can't I handle it? I see other people my age doing great things and all I seem to do is cry. 

This is a relatively private bridge. Although, I don't think I needed to chose a private bridge, because who would care to stop me? Who would even notice that I'm not just appreciating the view? Although, I look a little strange compared to a nature lover, as I am closer to the edge and not paying mind to any danger.