Mum I want to be a singer

Prologue x

"I just don't know what I'm good at mum, or what I would ever want to do with my life everything is so boring. I'm just fed up, so fed up with life, in general. My mental health, as you know, is always making me feel like shit, and I just want to cry. I just feel useless, I have no friends that even message me anymore all I have is loads of guys on tinder and they are only after one thing. Yes. They do make me feel shitter but at least they care about me or my body. It's just— I need attention they give me attention, but then make me feel used and dirty and like a slut. I want a boyfriend, and a job but a good boyfriend and a good job. "But I only seem to get shit ones. And I'm done caring or trying anymore, I feel like no one will ever like me for me and I'll die alone in a crappy house that's falling apart with loads of cats that eat me when I die." My head falls into my hands and my eyes well up. "I'm just done with life, so done. Everyone seems happy and like they enjoy this, I don't mum, I can't do this anymore. I can't." I yell still sobbing.

"Izzy." I look up at my mum. She's currently sitting with her elbow on the kitchen table her hand resting her tired head. "I keep telling you, we need to go back to the doctors and make an appointment, you know I will do that for you but you dont want me to make an appointment as you keep saying you won't go." She exclaims.

"Yeah because why would I want to go mum? It's always the same. Up the medication more depression tablets change depression tablets, they barely do anything and all the side effects make me feel shit, I get cold sweats in the night I wake up stinking! I can't barely pee properly anymore it comes out in dribbles. I have to get off the toilet go back on then off then on and there's so many more side effects than positives from these meds!"

"It helps you don't self harm anymore! You get less intrusive thoughts, your getting there." Mum says sighing.

But she doesn't know I still s3lfharm try to take to overdose on them on a regular basis, or that I'm really struggling as she has a lot going on and I don't want to worry her, or tell her that, yet again, I'm not coping... I haven't been coping for years it's just not something I enjoy saying. Unless I really feel like I'm going to explode, with all my emotions like now but even then I won't tell her that I still like to harm myself.

"I know, I just wish, I was more normal. Or even know what to do with my life.

"Well what do you want to do?"

"I'd love to be a singer but I'm not good enough you said yourself I'm just an alright singer plus I am wayyyyyyy to self conscious and have too much anxiety to do that. But it's my main dream and even though it seems impossible I guess I don't want to give up on it yet."

I look up at my mum into her beautiful blue eyes that she gave to me and she smiles. "Then don't."