Before you continue please know that life is shit, but it will get better. I've struggled with depression for many years now. It doesn't make you weak. No matter what your mind tries to to tell you, you're strong and you can make it. You're fucking beautiful and you're loved.
If you ever need anyone to talk to, please don't hesitate to message me. I have memes, dad jokes, and we can talk about whatever you're going through. Please, try to stay alive. If not for yourself, then do it for others. Do it for me. You're beautiful, and you will find your way, I promise you.
A few days ago I had tried to kill myself. I don't know what spurred my thought process, but I just knew that I was ready for my emotion pain and trauma to end. It was simple really. I decided I was going to just jump out of my bedroom window. Quick and easy. I'd fall head first, and I'd hit my head on the rocks surrounding the flowerbed below.
So that's what I did.
I opened my bedroom window carefully, giving myself enough time to back out if I wanted to. I swung one leg out, straddling the windowsill. I got ready to move the other one, but as I did so, my little brother burst through my room, asking me to make him pancakes for breakfast.
I forgot to lock the door.
I climbed back into the safety of my room, shutting the window behind me, and followed him downstairs to make him breakfast. I thought that the feeling would go away, and it did, but only for a short amount of time.
My moms boyfriend and I got into a heated argument a few hours later. He insists on trying to be like our father, demanding respect from all of us. I was one of the few who wouldn't comply. It's not like I was being disrespectful without a reason. This man likes to demand respect because he's an 'adult' but will not do the same for us. He likes to try to order us all around, trying to be in control, when my mother has specifically told him that he is not.
So he yelled at me. He called me hateful names, and I sat there and took it. I figured it'd be best to stay strong in front of my siblings, showing them that when I'm gone, they could stick up for themselves too. My mother had broken up the argument, but I was still full of anger. I wanted out.
I went upstairs, changing into something that I'd never wear, and snuck out the front door. No had even noticed that I had left, so I kept walking. Hot, angry tears ran down my cheeks, blurring my visions as I trudged emotionless down the road. Idea number two had popped into my head.
I was going to jump out into traffic.
I changed my course and started walking down to one of the busiest roads in town, when I had gotten a call from my sister. She wanted to know if I had seen her cleats, because she needed them for softball practice. I told her I hadn't seen them, telling her to look where she usually puts them. She told me she already had and asked if I would help her look so I reluctantly agreed, told her I'd see her soon, and made my way back home.
We found her cleats exactly where she usually leaves them.
Throughout the day, I wonder around my room aimlessly. I paced back and forth, I might as well have burned a path in my carpet. It was nearly time for me to get ready for work, so I threw my uniform on, grabbed my keys, and headed out the door. My mother sat on the pouch, watching my siblings playing in the yard . I told her goodbye, and that I loved her. She frowned, startled by my sudden display of emotions, but told me she loved me as well.
