Alone {c.h.}

Prologue

My psychiatrist said it might be a good idea to write my feelings or thoughts in a journal, that it might help my depression. So tonight, I attempted my first entry.

August 27, 2013

I've never felt this wave of "dark" emotions before. The only way I can truly describe it, would be that a new and never ending dark cloud has come over my head and is no where close to passing me. People have attempted to feel what I feel, to get a better perspective of understanding me, but I block them out. You can't fully grasp what someone has been through until you've been through it yourself. Don't try to understand me, you'll only fail like the rest. It's not worth it  to try. People like me are put on this planet for one reason and one reason only, to show people how precious life is. By showing them what they can become, or how hard it is to find the will to live when you've fallen. We show them the feeling of not being able to get back up and try again. Our lives are never ending trains of terror, making us all wish we could die. But no matter how hard we try, we can't. I shut people out. It's what I do. They don't deserve this sadness, no one does. Yet here we are suffering from it.

-Marie

I have been suffering from depression since I was 13, but no one ever knew until I was that lonely 17 year old freak who attempted suicide. When it happened everything was more of a blur than my life now, if that's even possible. I was told I tried to swallow a bunch of pills, but I woke up in a hospital being told that I would need to see a psychiatrist 3 times a week until I'm good. So here I am at 17 years old, seeing a shrink. Life as I know it is pointless, nothing good ever happens to me. Ever. My parents are a big portion of the reason I'm like this. When I was 13 they started putting a lot of pressure on me to exceed their expectations. They expected me to have the perfect GPA, outstanding test scores, and perform amazingly at sports so I would be able to get a full scholarship. It was all too much. I couldn't take it anymore, it was too much pressure. I couldn't handle it so I broke down. I said I couldn't and ever since then I was the failure child. Well it didn't really help considering both my older brothers, Jason and Andrew, got full scholarships to play football. I have and always will be the failure in this family, the girl who isn't skinny enough, the girl who isn't smart enough, the girl who isn't athletic enough, the girl who isn't good enough at anything or good enough for anyone. I've never gotten a "I'm proud of you" or a "Nice try" from my parents, I've always got "try harder next time and focus" or a "your trying isn't going to cut it."

At least going to sleep helps clear my thoughts, I mean it could be worse right? I minus well enjoy the amazing life I have in my dreams..

August 28, 2013

Well I have to see my psychiatrist today, since he wanted to see how I was doing after trying to write these stupid entries. Well guess what it's not working. It's making me feel worse, reading all my thoughts on paper. They sound so pettish and stupid. Yet they make me really upset.

-Marie

At the psychiatrist:

"Well Marie, how are you feeling?"

I reply "uhm besides the fact that writing these stupid entries is not helping, IT DOESN'T WORK!"

With a quick response he replied "Just be patient and give it some time."

"I don't want to give it time! It's not working now and it never will!"

After screaming at him I had no patience to hear his required "it's going to work and you'll be better" so I just stormed out. When I walked out I saw my mom waiting for me with a upset look.

My mom yelled at me saying "HURRY UP DINNERS WAITING AND THE BOYS ARE WAITING."

I decide that there's no use snapping back at her no matter how angry I was because I knew if I snapped at her I would get a beating again. Last time all I did was make one sarcastic comment and I was punched in the face, kicked in my stomach, and other things I'm not allowed to mention due to the fact that I don't want to be taken away from my family no matter how abusive they get.

After getting in the car, I just sat there staring at the scars on my wrists. I never worried about my mom noticing because it's not like she would care.

The only one who really cares about me is my second oldest brother Andrew. He just started college this year, as he just graduated this past year. He doesn't know about my mom abusing me or me being depressed/suicidal. I mean I wanted to tell him because he's always there for me, but my mom threatened to beat me harder than ever before if I told anyone so I kept all of that a secret.

When I got home I went straight to my room and immediately went to my twitter on my phone. I saw I had a interaction so I checked it out because I never get any. Honestly I was pretty excited. When I got to my interactions I saw someone I recognized from my school tweeted me "@_mariexx you're so ugly and nobody likes you. Just thought I'd let you know, if you already didn't know it."

Then I saw another tweet which was from another girl I recognized from our school, "@_mariexx please do everyone a favor and just die already."

There were about 5 more of these tweets, when I got through the next two I realized I was already bawling and it was pretty loud. Then I heard footsteps. Uh-oh, if that's my mom she'll beat me for being annoying and crying. I immediately wipe my tears, lay down with my back to the door, and close my eyes. The foot steps keep getting louder but my door is still closed. The door started to creak and I heard footsteps walking closer to me.