You take the blame for everything, whether or not it’s your fault. Most of the time it isn’t but you have convinced yourself that everything is somehow your fault. Maybe it is maybe it isn’t. you carry all the things that get blamed on you around and when it gets to be too much your release is cutting. It’s an escape. For those few seconds it is all you can think about. The blood, the pain, then it adds on to everything else.
You know that someday you will hope again. Maybe not today or tomorrow but someday hopefully soon. Preferably very soon, bur God knows what he’s doing.
Every night is still spent convincing yourself to live because you know that if you kill yourself you will go to hell. And you don’t want that. But you sit with a list, a list of reasons to live, and reasons to die. Your reasons to live consist of three people, not wanting to go to hell, and the fact that every time you have tried to kill yourself you haven’t died, you know that God must have something planned for you if he’s kept you alive this long.
As the blood pours out of a fresh cut, you can finally breathe again, you do this so no one has to deal with all of your pain. You made it days, weeks, without it but you needed a reminder of how no one cares, how worthless you are. You hide the hurt they inflict on you inside until it tries again to escape. It’s a monster, a monster inside of you. You try to let it free but as soon as you tell it to escape it buries itself deeper inside. There is no escape, no winning over the monster. You would tell people but you don’t want to see the disappointment in their eyes, don’t want them to have to worry about you. You don’t want to be trouble.
It’s easier to trust no one. If no one knows your secrets no one can use them against you. But there is one word that keeps you from blocking everyone out. Alone. The saddest word ever. You are so, so scared to be left alone. So you let people in. one after another they run to you with their problems, then they learn your secrets. Then they use them against you. It’s a never ending cycle.
You don’t really think you’re depressed. Just sad, very sad. Most of the time. Sometimes you are on top of the world and can do anything, nothing can stop you. Then you fall back down into the darkness again. Up down up down, you feel like you are two different people and you cannot control who you will be and when you’ll be that person.
You kinda want to die. Not as much as before but the desire is still there. It’s deep inside of you, and it won’t leave no matter how hard you wish or pray that it would just pack it’s bags and get the marshmallows out of your life.
Your tears fall, you shake uncontrollably, you knew that this breakdown was coming. The hyperventilating, the tears that are falling, the need for oxygen. It’s all so familiar. It only happens a couple of times a week, when everything just beats you to the ground, to your knees where you are left unable to breathe, your heart racing, knowing that you are all alone in this fight. The stress is too much. But you have to hide these little meltdowns, no matter what.
You just want, need a hug. For someone to hold you tight and never let go, because if they let go you will lose all reason to stay. There are three people you know are holding you, if even one of them lets go you would break again, this time you would be unfixable. Nothing could put you back together.
You pretend, always pretend. Everything is perfect. But in reality you just don’t want anyone to have to deal with all of your crap that’s clinging to you. It works though. Remember that person who said your life was rainbow-fairytale-marshmallow-unicorn-land? Well that person also said you had no idea what it was like to have problems, riiiiiiiiiight. Just keep pretending.
You carry your blades everywhere outside of your room with you. Just in case you start to feel again. If you feel you might let out some sign that you aren’t fine. So you keep yourself numb.
You take ibuprofen by the dozen, just so you can’t feel anything. Never enough to kill you. Though you do know exactly how many you would have to take to kill yourself you haven’t…. yet.
You can’t sleep at night for fear that the sun won’t rise. It doesn’t matter to you if it’s dark outside. But you want everyone else happy. So you try and take their pain onto you. Then you release it through your blood. And tears. And loneliness. Whatever happens you must keep everyone happy. You don’t want them to feel like you. To feel trapped with no escape, to feel worthless, unloved, alone, you will do whatever it takes to keep them happy.
You are falling apart. You can feel all the little pieces hitting the ground and you are making no moves to pick them up. It’d be useless to pick them up anyways; you’re so broken nothing can fix you.
It hurts when people say ‘I understand’ seriously, they don’t understand unless they have gone through what you are going through.
It’s so overwhelming, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to a breakdown. You can only hope it’s in the middle of the night in your bedroom when it happens. That way no one can find out.
Authors Note:
Hey guys:) I hope you are all feeling well. I am proud to say I talked to my best friend about my issues, and she convinced me to talk to my big brother (cousin who I call big brother) who was very understanding and his wife, also was super understanding and I am now trying to get out of the black hole that I’m in. hopefully I wont fall into it again. You guys should know that the things you have said to me have impacted my life greatly. Thank you so much.
With love,
Ashley
