Black soul

Chapter 1

12-21-20

Ha, it's been a while since I've written something like this. 

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The branch broke, and I fell.

It was a gloomy day, skies were gray. The school day was over and I had nothing else to do. I felt like sh!t the whole day, and everything got worse as time went on. I tried explaining how I felt to one of the teachers, but all she seemed to care about was my IOP presentation. I broke down crying in front of her...but, in the end, she just wanted me to do the project. I wasn't in a stable condition to do such things. 

But I guess she didn't understand. Like everyone else.

I ran away from home around 3:30 pm, on May 22. I had returned home from school and then asked my mom if I could go back to finish a English final. She said yes, and so I went. On my way there, I saw  Anya, and my boyfriend at the time- Arlo. I ended up not finishing the final after all. We all went to another friend's house, and after that, I just never came back home. Where I was isn't important as of right now, in this text. It's more of what I did, or didn't do.During my time being absent from everywhere, I hung out with friends and tried to escape reality. Everything I did was incredibly risky. At one point my friends and I started a fire at a nearby creek- and it got a little out of hand-luckily nobody was injured. I don't remember much of that day. It's not important as of now, but you can see what I meant by risky.Much of that summer wasn't eventful...at all. I got sick a few times, and I was toxic to others around me...I spent nights without sleep and days without eating. Sometimes I slept the whole day and avoided everyone. If I went outside, I had to force a laugh or fake a smile. It was pretty tiring. As tiring as it was, I continued to go through with it I thought that I was giving everyone a break by not having my presence around them. Everything I did was senseless and chaotic.

Every single thing. 

I literally couldn't do anything correctly, or anything to benefit somebody else, no matter how hard I tried. I just wanted to help. But I made everything worse. What made life worse was that I wanted to help my boyfriend, but I couldn't. He was suicidal, and not being able to help him only made me feel worse about myself. Thoughts of being useless and not being able to do anything right plagued my mind. How could a person who was given everything be so f**ked up? These were constant thoughts, I had to deal with them every day. One time, when Arlo and I were together, I told him ̈ What's the point of living if it keeps getting worse? Even when you take a small step forward, you just get knocked 10 steps back. It's just a never-ending cycle, and I'm tired of it."Knowing that we both were suicidal...it wasn't the best thing to say. I fell asleep and he stayed up for a while thinking about what I had said. The next morning I woke up to find new scars on his arm. I felt terrible, but at the same time, what could I have done to prevent all of this? The school knew, his mom knew, his goddamn therapist knew. And nobody seemed to want to help him. I felt like I couldn't do anything.

Being the helpless depressed kid I was, I thought it'd be better for everything to stop. EVERYTHING. I just needed everything to stop. People offered help, but they never did, knowing my situation. They had physical evidence, on both my arms and neck and a suicide note. Yet I got no help. As a mandated reporter, you'd think that she tries to help me right? No. Absolutely nothing happened. And I don't think it ever would have. I apologized to everyone that I had bothered over the summer and eventually left everyone alone. I had bought some rope from Seiyu,a  nearby store, went to a creek and hung the rope. Everything would've been so easy. Unfortunately, nature didn't want things to go as planned and the branch broke. I broke down with my body hurting. I couldn't do anything right. I didn't cut deep enough. I didn't try hard enough. I literally couldn't do anything right. Not even take my own life. Left to my resources, I managed to get a hold of a few blades and knives. But, as I said before, nothing went as planned. I still have the disgusting scars on my arms and thighs, reminding me of the self-mutilation that I put myself through. Maybe they'll go away, or maybe not. Regardless, I stillknow what I did. It makes me wonder if I had done worse to other people without realizing it. Not physically, but mentally. I know I've hurt numerous people and pushed everybody away, yet I still try to come back without apologizing half the time. I'm toxic, just like I said before.After a few days of failing to successfully quit this game called life, I got a hold of a gun. Scary, right? Yeah... you know how that goes.