I remember that when I woke up in the morning, things felt dark and empty. I didn't want to get up, I wanted to stay inside and leave myself to wallow in my own self pity.
I tried turning to family for support but found it hard to confide all my disturbing thoughts in them. I didn't want to drag them all into my messed up mind. But now I realise that what I did would have affected them anyway.
***
Dear Diary,
Waking up is the worst part of my day, I hate the fact that I have to intake another large breath of oxygen. I despise the idea of communicating with people who don't have a single clue about what is scratching and screaming, tearing my mind apart. I cannot get rid of this fucking anxiety that everything is going to end, yet I'm always trying to end it. My life is pointless, I am in no way worth it.
I'm always turning to my friends to make it better, to relieve me from the pain that I'm constantly experiencing. I have three main friends and they all make me feel different ways. One makes my body burn with adrenaline and then causes more pain when they leave my system. Another makes me weak and unable to use my hands after red has dropped onto the wooden floors. The other burns my throat and makes me feel as sane as I can ever be yet I know that all three are slowly killing me.
That's what I've always wanted though, to take my final breath and leave without any fuss or attention. It's not like I receive that anyway.
It's today that I'll leave my note.
I'll use my friends that lay waiting in the draw by my bed. The ones that my mother believes are for when I have a 'headache' or 'period pain'.
Yet my mother doesn't know that my mind is insane and I can't deal with the thoughts that rush into my brain at 100mph, making my heart beat faster than it should and my body jolt at the way I could just as easily throw myself into the highway.Love always, Gen.
******
Dear Diary,
I wrote my note yesterday. I mentioned how nobody was to blame themselves or to cry at my funeral or I wouldn't be pleased. I told my mother that I loved her and that I hope she knows that she's done the best she can to bring me up on her own. I told my sister that I'd miss her and she could have whatever she wanted from my room, but I want my posters kept in tact. Then I put the letter on my table and stared at it until I realised...
I'm ready.
Love always, Gen.
***I took the tablets that night and I vaguely remember the drowsiness I felt and how I thought my whole body had been drained. I know I heard the sirens of the ambulance as my mothers voice screeched at the paramedics asking,
"Is she breathing? Dear God, tell me she's breathing for Christ sake".
My eyes fluttered and I was disgusted at the taste of the oxygen flushing into my lungs. I had never hated myself more than I did in that moment. The pain that I witnessed in my mother's eyes and the destroyed vision placed on my sisters face, I had ruined the family.
Hospitals had always freaked me out so I never really understood why I had caused myself so much damage from the pills, the blades and the alcohol, knowing that one day I'd end up in here. I guess in the back of my mind, I was hoping that I'd skip this stage and go straight to the graveyard.
It was a few hours later when I was awoken by the monitor beeping and the nurse asking if I'd like to talk. All I remember whispering with fear was, "it didn't work, did it?"
As the nurse looked down at my records, I spoke again, "I'm still alive, aren't I?"
This time she just nodded as she overlooked the sorrow in my eyes, probably noticing that I was unimpressed with the outcome.
And to this day, I am still disappointed that I didn't reach the other side. I don't think a day goes by when I don't think about what it would have been like, and how my mind wouldn't think the way it does when I'm up there with God.
YOU ARE READING
the friends who weren't friends at all
Teen Fictionthe time my English teacher told me to write about disappointment