My Story

Trigger warning: suicidal thoughts/ self-harm (not cutting)

My story. Where do I start?

My name is Laurs, but that isn't my birth name. I won't reveal my actual birth name, but I'll use Elizabeth if needed. (I vastly prefer Elizabeth, actually.)

For some background, I'm from China, and I go to... let's just say, a very strict (according to some; I've never had any other schooling experience.) school.

When I was little, someone managed to classify me as a genius. (I have no idea.) Anyways, great expectations were placed upon me from a young age, and by the age of 7, I'd managed to get into a nice, Catholic private school. And life was good.

Until I started making 95s, because in the Asian world, an A- is a fail.

So that was what I had. Pressure. And a lot of forcing myself to get good grades. Good grades being 100% on every single test without fail.

For some of you, this would probably be pretty easy. Except I, for one, am an idiot, and one day in third grade managed to get not a 100, not a 95, not evn a 90, but a 76.

Now, I'd gotten 90s and 92s before. I'd even gotten a 83 once. Resulted in maybe getting yelled at for a day or two.

But this? It lasted 3 days. Yelling, throwing out toys, the usual.

It's probably not a big deal. But within that period of time, I'd stare out of the window and contemplate jumping. I'd consider dying. I wanted to die. I just did.

I was scared of everything, too. Getting a 99% in a test sent me into a panic. I know my third-grade class knew me as a spoilt brat who desperately wanted to get to the top 3. They all thought I wouldn't make it.

In the end I did, but it was probably just a pity vote. The girl who came in third got 100s in math. I never did. Somehow I ranked higher than her.

I had regular meetings with the school counselor. They said I might have anxiety. My parents weren't impressed.

Which is why they made me sit a random exam and whoosh! I got into my current school.

I made terrible grades. I did try, but what for? We're working towards the huge exam we'll sit at the age of 17. Good grades (at least 7 top scores) guarantees a good job.

From what I'm doing so far, the only top grade I can pray for is an English, and even that'll be a stretch.

Honestly, I'm hopeless. I'll fail, and then what? I'll have nowhere to go. "Just try harder at school!" Why should I, if the easier way out exists?

Sometimes I just want to disappear. Sometimes I look at how much people have achieved, and look at myself. A loser. And that's all I'll ever be. A coward. Someone scared of everything.

Not a winner. Not someone who's won a battle (though I act like I have. I act like all that was just a memory.), and not someone who will ever win any. When I see people who've won, or people whose problems people actually care about (how many people actually care about how I feel? how many people actually ask me how I am?), I know I am nothing.

I should just give up.

And sometimes, when I feel like maybe I should ask for help, I tell myself, "You can listen to music and you feel fine, so you aren't depressed."

I have highs and lows. Extreme highs, near delirium. I sound pretty crazy. And happy. I might be. Some days I am actually happy. Some, I'm just honestly high. (I don't even do drugs.)

The lows are terrible. They just are. Once in a while (maybe once a month), self-harm. Hitting myself. Leaning too far back in chairs. Bruising myself. Poisoning. I got a jump rope ready once. Never used it. I have no idea how to.

Sometimes I want to just stab the life out of people, too. I just do, nothing personal.

There's nothing wrong with me. All I am, is a loser and a liar. My problems are nothing compared to others'. People have been through so much. My problems are pointless. So is this chapter.

(Just now I participated in class. Got the answer wrong. It was easy, too. The teacher tried to make me feel better, but it still remains that I made a mistake on the first actual class. Guess I'll have to be the stupid kid again.)

---

As a fifth-grader, sixth-grader and seventh-grader, I was a terrible friend.

I'd lost a friend a bit before this story starts. It was in seventh grade.

I had a friend who, in her way, tried to help me. But what did I do? Pushed her away. Gave her the cold shoulder.

This happened a lot. Teachers were involved. My parents were involved. The entire school knew about it, mostly, and especially in sixth grade.

In seventh grade, I pushed my friends away.

Gave one of them depression; real depression, and they were already struggling at home.

I guess we're friends again, but I don't deserve them. I don't deserve anyone. If you're my friend, maybe you should reconsider. I might be the cause of your depression, after all. I might give you anxiety. I might ruin your life.

---

I'm also scared of a lot. Failure, heights, being a disappointment, loud noises. I'm on edge a lot. Texting can send me into a panic. Speaking in class? Even worse.

Will I even live to the age of 14? Am I even going to survive 2020?

I'm staying alive just for maybe one person. (If you're reading this, hi. You saved me. I'm sorry I'm not much help to you.)

I'm trying.

I'm trying to fight.

I'm not sure I can.

I'll try. If I make it to 15.

---

To anyone who needs love: Hi. You can talk to me. Or Maria, but she's not very good with people. She tries, give her some love. (maria: someone who i am when i need a get away from my weird life)

Anyways, have a heart! <3 sending love!