You Don't Have To Read This

I don't get it.

I don't get it. I have everything I could need. A home. Food. Both parents. Friends. Hell, even a boyfriend!

Yet... I still feel empty. I still want more. I still feel like something is missing. I still don't understand what my purpose is or why I'm even here.

Why?

Why are human beings so selfish? Me included. Why were we made this way? Why can't others understand that we don't need money or anything. Why can't we just understand?

I've been thinking alot. I've been realizing stuff.

Compassion and Care are still around. If it hadn't been for my friends, I probably wouldn't be here. I wouldn't have understood. Of course, I also would have been too squimish to kill myself. I would be wallowing in depression and I would be using stuff as excuses to hurt myself. Like, how I'm Christian? I could tell my parents I'm fasting food. Or, any nail marks I could hide easily or just do in a spot others couldn't notice.

Yet, my friends kept me from this. Without them even realizing it, they saved me. I hate it when I feel down, because I know others have it worse. Or, atleast, most likely. I've heard stories, I search for stories, like those, that feel like a slap to the face, telling me to wake up and stop being selfish. I try to share with my friends because I have stuff that they might not, and I feel like I'm being even more selfish thanks to that. When I share, I love seeing the way they smile and thank me, and I always feel good.

But then I turn it into something public, share it with others, exaggerate it as if I'm some movie star they have to worship. And then I feel guilty because of this and I know that I don't deserve a single little fucking thing that I have because THEY are the movie stars. THEY are heroes in my world that I can never repay, yet I try, knowing that they're better people than I will ever be! I only post on this because I want others to share their stories anymore. I had started this book to help me deal with life and how it like to fuck with us. But then I feel like I'm victimizing myself when others need this so much more! Then, whenever I try to bring others in, I feel like I'm pushing them to share themselves with me when I know I can't help and I won't share their experiences because the truth is my life is so much better than I make it out to be!

I go to a nice church, live in a good neighborhood, go to a great school, get to go on camps and field trips galore, and go to fancy places and amusement parks whenever special events come around. I get healthy food and clean water, a sturdy roof over my head and loving parents.

The only time my life is bad is when my parents get drunk, yet I refuse to share how much their words affect me because I know others are actually abused. I just have to deal with this when they're drunk, and no matter how often that is, others have it worse.

Even writing this, I feel like I'm victimizing myself, and struggle not to just delete it and ignore these feelings. Yet, I post it, because I know if I don't I'm going to go crazy!

I know others have it worse, I know that, yet I am forced into the feelings and crap that life brings.

I may not be able to help you, but I do know that sharing feels good. You don't have to share any personal information, just please, reach out before it's too late.

I don't get why I am still alive, but I cling to the fact that it isn't my time yet. That I must have a purpose if I am still alive.

You aren't alone. Those words are the most shared, are the famous words of psychiatrists everywhere. At times, I know it's true. Others...

But they are true! You are NOT alone. I will be there, helping you through the worst of it like my friends did, yet I'll know I'm helping you. Even if you just need to share, please, I'll listen.

I'm sorry I just dumped all this on you. I just... can't hold it back anymore. Thank you if you read through all of this.