“Your parents will never love you...”
“Attention seeking whore”
“Ugly slut”
“That’s why nobody loves you..”
Words... Some may just brush it off and pretend they didn’t hear a thing. Some may just ignore and let it slide. But, how about the ones who says nothing but later on, lets their minds echo what they just heard? The ones who are deeply saddened by those words and feel every letter, every syllable sink to their hearts like little knives that are slowly, extracting every ounce of their happiness in their already depressed souls? Because, not everyone of us is that strong. Just because someone smiles, doesn’t mean they’re happy. What if the girl who spends her whole day, laughing her heart out, and then spends her night otherwise? What if the boy who lets you call him names, stares in the mirror every day and repeats everything you just said to him?
Yeah, it hurts.. So much. I may look like I don’t care in whatever you say. But, trust me. I was only using all my strength of will to refrain myself from crying because of the fear I may look more frail to you, thus satisfying you because you’ll know that you always win. YOU. ALWAYS. WIN.
March 24, 2014
11:11 PM
Dear Diary,
Forget what I’ve said on my last entry that everything was slowly getting back to the way it was. Because, I spoke too soon; I woke up, took a shower and I heard voices of my parents fighting again. They were shouting at each other hurtful words that I can’t stand to hear. So, I tried to stop them. I tried screaming their names. But it seems like, they can’t hear me. When my dad was about to hit mom again, I stopped his hand. My actions helped me gain a slap from him. I was about to stand up again, then he finally yelled “Get the fuck out of this! Go kill yourself! You pathetic little bitch! You don’t deserve to live!” I was dumbfounded, of course. Teary-eyed, I looked at my mom for some help.. “Just get out…” Her crying, frail voice still echoing in my head. Those were the signal words to make me grab my things and drag my hopeless body to school.
At school, I went straight to my locker. Only to find those mean girls who have nothing but bully unpopular kids at my school infront of it. I pretended that I didn’t see them and hastily tried to get my things as fast as I can but… “Where do you think you’re going, worthless slut?” I kept myself from crying. I told them to stop bullying people. But instead, I got nothing but laughter from them. “Oh why are you crying? Are you going to tell to your parents—oh wait! They don’t care!” I pushed them, and ran straight to the restroom. I heard the school bell as I sighed. I got my blade. I never thought I would pull it out again... Last week, everything was great. No, scratch that, PERFECT. My parents were trying to fix things up; they didn’t argue that much anymore. The girls at my school? They finally decided to leave me be. Anne, Trixie, Kristelle and Jane smiled at me. All those months, my only friends, made me ponder what I did wrong. They just literally ignored for the reason God-knows-what.
Everything was starting to be picture-perfect. But right now, I just felt like, the heavens just wanted to remind me what happiness felt like. It feels like it’s been a thousand years ago since I last smiled. A real smile. I still don’t know why I’ve been punished like this though. I was a good, innocent girl, or so I thought. It never came to me that I would feel what depression was like. I never thought that I would get tired of everything and finally turn to self-harm. I was so strong. I didn’t care what people say until then… Again, emphasize the word ‘WAS’. Because what’s done is done. The damages, destruction and devastation crept into my numb heart. Now, I’ve really had enough, I’m tired to breathe anymore, I’m tired to deal with the same shit all over again.
Bye…
~ defeated. xx
I was finally ready. I’m all set. Blades, cutters, razors and sleeping pills on top of my bed. My pain is constant and sharp. I don’t hope for a better world for anyone.. This may sound too dark. But, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want them to feel my misery all this time. Suicide is selfish? NO. You are all selfish. Telling us that we shouldn’t be sad just because there are people who have much more serious problems is SELFISH. Why? When you’re happy, THINK ABOUT THOSE PEOPLE who just met their parents for the very first time. Think about those kids who finally got adopted by the right parents. Think about the guy who proposed to his girlfriend after many years and she said ‘yes’. DO YOU HEAR PEOPLE TELL YOU ‘Don’t be fucking happy. You’re not the only one who just experienced that kind of thing’? NO. Never right? Well, it’s definitely the same with telling us not to be sad and stuff. You are all a bunch of hypocrites. Stop telling me too that you’re always here for me.. Bullshit. I’m in the middle of the nights, hearing these voices again. And my self-loathing claws its way and rips itself from my mouth in a silent scream. I am alone. When the blade finally parts my skin, when the cuts get deeper. I am alone. Like always… When the only real thing is the blood running down my arms.. Because the truth is, No one really cares until something dramatic happens. It’s a fucking cycle. Avoid people. Fake a smile. Cry. Die a little. Then, repeat. Until depression finally consumes your whole being.
Depression isn’t an act. Eating disorders aren’t phases. Suicide isn’t a coward’s escape. Self-harming is not a cry for attention. Stop acting like you know everything. If we cut for attention, why do we try so hard to keep it as a secret? You won’t feel this types of things unless you’re in our shoes. Stop judging us. Please. Don’t tell me that I ruined my body and it’s covered in scars and ask me “Are you happy now?!” Well, do you honestly think I did this to be happy? Nder these clothes are my battle wounds from the war inside my head. I did everything to hide it from you all. But, now… It’s pointless. I’ll carry these scars for the rest of my life. Scars that’ll stories. I can’t even remember a time before this.. I can’t remember how to smile and be worry-free. I can’t remember how I didn’t care whatever everyone’s going to say. It’s too late now… At first, I can’t cut too deep, never deep enough to die. But always enough to feel the pain. Enough to feel the scream inside. But again, it’s too late to turn my back now. I’m drained and grown emotionless.
Lastly, we are not proud of what we did. And, also, I shouldn’t be sitting here contemplating whether or not I should tear my skin. It’s not like you’d care right? This is over. I’m done, so done. I am finally prepared to disappear permanently. Logging out... Farewell.
