WARNING: THIS DOES MENTION SUICIDE AT THE END
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Canada hated everyone. For one reason or another, he hated everyone. He hated Katana for being a fucking spaztastic loser. He hated Patrick for being so nice to him and not so much to others. He hated Australia for being an obnoxious one-star Yelp review come to life. He hated everything and everyone.
Being around people made him feel numb and almost anxious but he couldn’t avoid them forever. He had school and lived with his parents. There was no way to be alone 24/7. He could only pray to whatever fucked up god there was that he would someday be happy. Of course, that god never listened. It was like Canada was just some comedic tv show for that god. Whenever he messed up, that god would laugh at him.
He felt like a dumb-fuck clown who was there for nothing but entertainment. No one necessarily wanted to be around him. Katana had other friends and made everything about herself and Patrick was too in love with him. Canada’s mom always pushed for him to be with stupid-ass Patrick but that wasn’t the end goal he wanted. Canada wanted someone who could be mean but not too mean. He wanted someone who actually liked being around him and wouldn’t hit him whenever he did or said something even slightly dumb. Someone who was of standard and wasn’t too far above. Unfortunately, the world hated him so he never got what he wanted.
Everyone was either too little or too much for him and made him question if his standards were too high. There weren’t too high, right? He hoped so.
There was nothing Canada could do right. He fucked up everything he touched. Every OC he had ever made had this weird pattern. Drugs, depression, suicide, dead/missing parental figures. Was that his future? Drugs and sadness? It seemed like it. The only things he could feel were numbness, sadness, anger, and anxiety. Happiness was practically non-existent to him. Life was bad. His friends fucking sucked and so did his family.
Maybe it would get better. Maybe he could be happy again with people he loved and cared for. At least, that was what he hoped for. That was the thought he kept in his brain and thought about from time to time. Though, the hope seemed quite moronic. There was no way in hell that he could feel happy again. He was damned to be unhappy and seemingly emotionless for the rest of his life, which would suck.
It happened again. Katana left without him again. She always left with her group of retarded weebs who’d call each other the names of characters from some stupid, shitty anime they liked. He didn’t care anymore. At first, he felt saddened and to be frank, offended. Wasn’t he her best friend? Weren’t they friends forever? What happened to that? Why didn’t she care anymore?
He asked her about it a few times but every answer he got left him angry and unsatisfied. “I don’t sit near you. Sorry,” “Because we have things in common,” “Oh it must be the voices then.” The excuses were dumb. Every excuse he read, he felt dumb. Was he dumb? Was he just some dumbass that Katana talked to occasionally? Because it sure felt like it.
At some point, he confronted her in real life. Katana just responded with a half-hearted sorry and an ‘everything is going to be okay.’ All he replied with was an angry ‘No, it’s not okay. Nothing is ever okay.’ and left her behind to get away from her.
Patrick was, well, annoying. He always bombarded Canada with stupid shit like planes and Twenty One Pilots and just shit that Can couldn’t care less about. In class, Patrick always did something like poke Can’s shoulder or speak in his stupid, way-too-low, mumbly voice. It. Was. Annoying.
Every time Canada was doing something like watching some show on Netflix or roleplaying on Insta, he got a text from Patrick. As of recently, though, Patrick stopped texting so much and Canada couldn’t be happier. Of course, he wasn’t happy but the weight of constantly being texted was off of his shoulders. To celebrate, he treated himself with a binge of Supernatural and tons of fanfiction of Sam, Dean, and Castiel.
There was one person in Canada’s miserable life that he couldn’t get rid of, his little brother, Australia.
The kid always had something to say and complained every chance he got. “This isn’t in the shape I wanted it in!” “You should die.” Oh, shut up. Australia had his okay moments but for the most part, was a terrorist in Canada’s life. Canada couldn’t talk though. He was also a bit of a terrorist. I mean, he was an accident and ruined his parents’ life. One of the only reasons his parents were still together was because he and Australia existed. His mom always said that she still loved his dad but Canada knew that was a bit of a lie. His mom constantly ranted about how his dad was a lazy drunk who had too much to say about politics. She wasn’t wrong, though. Canada’s dad sucked ass.
Canada’s grades were beginning to slip and he was losing all of his friends. Every friend he had made in every grade before seventh was drifting away from his sad ass. Growlen was slowly moving towards their other friends. Lena pretended to listen and care but it was obvious that she didn’t. Katana only stayed with him out of pity probably. Patrick had the same reasons as Katana. Carrie was an attention-seeking whore so Canada willingly got away from her. She hit him too much anyway.
He felt like he was going back into the cycle he had in sixth grade. Happy, depressed, numb. Happy, depressed, numb. Happy, depressed, numb. Numb. Numb. Numb. Numb. All he wanted to be was numb. It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. No one would miss him. All it would take was one bottle of pills or one stab to the stomach or maybe just a bathtub filled with water and a blade.
He knew he needed mental help but therapists didn’t do shit. He had one for a while and it did nothing. That was a year ago, though; maybe it would help him now that he felt truly sad. Therapists cost money and he didn’t want to be a burden or a liability just because he wasn’t happy so he just shut up, put on his mask, and went back into the world once again.
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This is just a summary of my life at the moment.
