Okay so are you ever lying in bed and bawling your sweet eyes out until they sting, this has become a regular for me. As much I wish I could just stop and get out of my bed and make plans with my friends to do something stupid. I can't. I keep trying. Just wondering what would happen if I just disappeared, not necessary die, but just disappeared to a quite comfortable place where you can help yourself. Wishing this was possible, you keep trying to keep up with your friends and family and teachers standards but you can't.
You can ignore this heavy weigh sitting on your shoulders and well more or less crushing you. They tell you to get help because people want you to get better and need you to survive this because it's very important that you're there when they're going through their own rough times. You can't seem to help not wanting help though because you hate that your problems effect other people. You hate that it's selfish to want to die or to just be in a different until your mind becomes less ill. You hate that people want you to open up and when you do they just tell you it's normal to feel like this. But it's not. It's not normal to want to disappear. It's not normal to not want to exist anymore.
You hope that one day someone who has the same struggle of getting out of bed, or being happy will come along and help you while helping themselves also. You want to continue doing what everyone else is doing but you physically can't because your so fucking tired. Mentally and physically.
Right now I just want to go to sleep and never wake up, never have to worry about the homework that I was too exhausted to do, about the people that state that they want me to be better but only because I'm a great listener. I want to be smart and kind and talented like everybody claims I am. I can't see talent. I could, once upon a time. Now however it's just a wasted effort. I try all that I can to draw that picture, to sing that song, to pass that fucking test. Every fucking thing I do makes me feel like shit. I'm running out of fuel and I can't help but be selfish.
I can't help it if I want you to love me without me trying. You can't see things from my point of view though. When I meet a person I have to decide if they hate me or not. I assume you hate me if you don't state otherwise. I'm so dependent on others reassurance that that has become my drug. I try so fucking hard to make a person like me if I feel like they might not hate me. It always ends up driving them away though.
I'm just an ugly fat mistake. I mean it. Ugly- well you can't really argue with your first fucking impression of a person and well shit you need glasses or you are trying to convince me otherwise. Fat- same fucking point but this time there is a fucking piece of metal to prove my suspicions. Doesn't take a genius to see fucking fat roles. Mistake- everything happens for a reason so you can't be a mistake really, but if everything happens for a reason than there has to be a balance of bad and good, no? There must be mistakes for the sake of mistakes also, not just for learning experience.
I can't sit here and tell anybody that I'm ok. I'm really not. Me saying that does not mean that I want you to tell me that it gets better. Or that I can make myself better with time and help. It means that I'm stating a fact that fucking hurts me. My mind hurts, my body hurts, I cry at everything. Jesus I can't even blame that one poor fucker who resorted to bullying me because I'm just so fucking annoying. Every choice I made my whole life lead me to writing this right now. I chose to feel like shit, I chose to be an annoying person that is so difficult to deal with.
I have so many problems and my tiny dumb fucking mind can't fathom. It's really awful though. To be told that I'm missing a part of me. I don't light up a room with my smile and stupid jokes anymore. I don't cheer up one of my sad friends because my head has this massive black fucking cloud above it. I can't do all the homework and shit that I never liked but still got fucking done.
Thinking about all this, I realize that I have a massive fear of rejection which leads me to procrastination because if I leave it to last minute it's less time I have to worry that my work is shitty compared to what is expected of me. I don't want to disappoint my family and friends though. I'm already a failure at being me. Why can't I just go back to the old me. Well very simply, she doesn't exist anymore. I killed her with worry, anxiety and depression. It's not my fault though, our younger, truly happy self is always killed by something. It's fucking inevitable.
So I'll go back to pretending that everything is the way it is because I can't fucking let go of anything, I'm so clingy that I will be the death of myself. While I type these words I could be catching up on the homework that i have yet to do. Or I could be doing something that I used to have a passion in, or find a new passion, but I can't. I'm too exhausted, I can't change what's to come so very simply I will continue to hope that death will sweep me off my feet without hurting those who are feeling the same. If the people who say they care about me actually care about me, i could fucking ruin their lives. I could cause my family to go from a one parent home to a fucking orphan family. My poor fucking siblings who suffered with me at the death of my father and uncle and cousins. Fuck, we've gone through so much.
I can't say that though because there's always someone who has it worse than me. But what can I say I'm so fucking selfish.
