#DepressionBuddies | Yoonmin

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Yoongi POV ⤵

Sometimes I like to think there's at least one person like me out there. Fucked up, broken and still breaking. It puts my mind at ease a little.

It's times like these that my mind wanders off. I begin to think of what it would be like to... well... die. The overwhelming yet non-existent feeling of relief that would flood over me. I wouldn't know I was dead, would I?

I rubbed the corner of my pillowcase between my thumb and index finger. The feeling was quite soothing- the way the rough cotton seemed to vibrate against itself when I played with it- I liked it.

People often talk about feeling so alone in the world- I see it a lot on the internet. Yet, i'm sure these people have a family or even friends around them. Whereas I, however, really do have nothing.

Don't pity me, though. I'm at peace with the feeling of heart-wrenching loneliness. Wow, i'm a whole sob-story, aren't I?

I had a family when I was born. iI had a mother, a father, an aunt and uncle, grandma and grandpa. A normal family like that. But, one day I guess my father just... left. And with that, so did my mother. She, of course, couldn't support the two of us while having absolutely no help from my family.

Ff anything, you should pity my mother, wherever she is now.

So, she gave me up. I don't really resent her for it, I just wish that she tried a little harder, maybe, to keep me. Things would be a whole lot different.

I bounced around foster families for a few years. Nobody wanted that skinny, underfed and terrified kid- and they still don't. They want the happy one. The well-fed and energetic one.

Then again, who would adopt a seventeen-year-old?

I was never really given the chance to open up or adjust to a family, seeing that I was sent off almost as soon as I arrived. Did they feel so sympathy? apparently not. Maybe the select few did.

After foster care failed, I was given to Miriam. A devil of a woman. One of the worst I've met. We never got along- as long as I've been here which will be about five years this upcoming October.

If you want to know more about Miriam, I'll give you the basics. Her and I are polar opposites. She absolutely hates me- everything about me. I don't understand why, still. I never did much but my occasional attempt at running away.

A seventeen-year-old failing at running away, how pathetic.

Anyways, when I was younger, she liked to skip my meals, dishing it out to the other kids while I just sat there in silence. I'd go a week without eating until someone finally slipped me something behind her back. But, I was almost always caught eating it.

What you're about to hear may gross you out- so don't read it if you don't want to. But, it's only the truth. Times that she would find me sneaking food, she would lock me in the bathroom and force me to drink hydrogen peroxide. It would, in turn, make me throw up.

Now that I think about it, I may have found a reason for her to hate me, other than what I've already stated. I used to get into fist fights... very often. The other orphans used to "pick on" me, for lack of better words. Always taunting me for never getting adopted. They naturally assumed there was just something wrong with me.

But maybe they're right. Maybe there is something wrong with me?

It's no point to get into those kinds of thoughts, tonight. It's been one of my better days, today. I was given a full plate of food, for one. I spent most of the day playing with the younger children. Mostly five through eight. they seem to... brighten my day. One of the only things that can really make me happy.

Other than that, like I mentioned before, I have nothing. No belongings other than a few pairs of clothes, no phone, not even a blanket. My room has just a shelf and a mattress. not even a bed frame. This facility isn't exactly the cleanest.

I rolled onto my stomach. It took me maybe half an hour to just eat some of my food, today. I had to learn the hard way to not eat fast after starving for so long.

I sighed and watched my fingers. They were bony and pale. Not at all how I'd like them to look.

Yeah, I'm really insecure much like the next teenager. What's really new? I hate how I look, how I talk, how I walk. Everything. I hate my life, my father for leaving, my family for not helping...

I try not to complain too much. I do apologize.

I often think back to when I was younger and everything I would be told. I've been told to kill myself plenty of times, just never got around to do it. It's kind of hard when you're under 24/7 surveillance. I don't understand why she (Miriam) is trying to keep me alive- all whilst simultaneously killing me.

I always thought of sneaking into the kitchen somehow- stealing a knife and stabbing myself. Maybe slitting my wrists. Harsh and abrupt, I know. But they're just normal thoughts. Hanging myself is no use. They'd see me and catch me far before I had the chance.

Whatever I decide, it will have to be quick. Preferably painless but i'm pretty numb at this point.

I know what you're thinking, I'll be an adult in October, why not just wait? Or, 'life will get better!" but, how do you suppose it will? I have close to zero education (I was pulled out at sixteen). I have no family, no money, nowhere to go. once again, I have nothing.

So, I find the idea of suicide calming. It's a great option, for me at least. Not for everyone. I will be honest with you here, suicide is never the option- i just have nothing else. I'm just a vegetable- nobody likes vegetables.

Suicide will bring me peace- it's my only option, once again.

Although, there always is just one little thing that lingers in the back of my mind. Just a small, little question.

Sometimes I like to think there's at least one person like me out there. Fucked up, broken and still breaking. It puts my mind at ease, a little.

But then I realize, nobody can love me. Nobody ever will. I'm a fucked up teenager with a fucked up mind. Nobody wants that.

So, my mind again turns to suicide.

That word seems to ring wrong in my head. Suicide isn't the way I'd describe it. Death is like a peace-offering.

wow, I really am depressed.

Maybe, just maybe, if I found someone, I'd reconsider. To find someone worth living for-

Someone like me. Someone I can relate to.

A depression buddy. Yeah, that's what I'd like. Maybe then being alone wouldn't be so lonely.

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A/N: Hey guys, I know this first chapter was a bit of a downer. I don't want anything in here to trigger you, or make you feel bad. If you happen to be struggling, message me, please. I can help you- or, I can try. I promise that ending it isn't the only option, okay? Love you all ~