Sometimes beautiful can come from nothing. Sometimes dark and demonic can also come from nothing. They generate from the same thing yet they are so very different. I pick up my journal, I feel the pages. So used and so worn. With the flower pedals of my life that also holds the thorns.
Dear Journal,
Everyone tells me that life is precious, life is beautiful. However, the only way I have perceived life is that it is only beautiful if the soul is ignorant and untouched. Once you are touched by the real world it is hard to see it as beautiful and pleasant.
I've gone through many unsatisfying things in my life and I feel as if I put many people through tough times as well. Everyday, I have to question whether or not that day is worth remembering or even getting through.
I am just tired. I am tired of the poor treatment. I am tired of going on with no purpose, with no faith or hope in myself. I am tired of remembering..
Some nights I go to sleep hoping that I don't wake up.
About a year ago I was feeling really down, I didn't even want to get out of bed. I stayed home "sick" one day while my mom went to work and my sister was in school. I was alone.
I went to the bathroom and filled up the bathtub full of water, got undressed, and stepped in. I wanted to close my eyes and fall asleep underneath the water. I wanted to drown. Although I didn't, I kept my head above water, for the most part. I stared at the razor blades that I had found after taking razors apart.
I grabbed one and played with the sharp edge, running my fingers along the side. I hissed as I cut my finger and the red blood dripped into the water. I watched as the color faded into the water. I dipped the blade into the water to clean it off.
I don't want to be here anymore. I don't want to exist. I want the pain to go away.
I get out of the bathtub and wrap a towel around me. I walk to my mother cabinet and search for something strong. I take all of the pill bottles out of the cabinet and walk back to the bathroom. I sit back in the tub. I swallow each pill, one-by-one. Then I close my eyes.
I hear a door open, I hear inaudible yelling. Then nothing.
I wake up in a hospital bed and my mother staring at me angrily. They had just flushed out my stomach and I some how failed my attempt.
I don't belong here. I don't need to be here. My life is full of nothingness. My life is a terrible tragedy.
I wanted to escape.. I wanted to be done..
Now all I can think about is how I failed at that too.
Goodbye..
No one really cares until you stop breathing. Every thought is a battle, every breath is a war, and I don't think I am winning anymore.
Sick of crying, sick of trying, yes I am smiling but inside I am dying.
