I don’t know why I’m writing this. I don’t know why any of you would care about my pathetic life. You’re all going through hard things, maybe your parents are divorced, or are on drugs all the time. Maybe you live in an abusive household. Or you don’t have friends.
I don’t deal with any of that. My parents are still together, we have a pretty good life, I have friends.
But I still feel like a piece of garbage.
I hate hate hate myself for telling you this, I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. everyone says they care and then they get overwhelmed with my self-loathing and say goodbye. Over and over and over again.
That’s why I want to die. don’t tell me you care, I frickin know that. I know people care. I know my family would miss me, and I’d miss them. I’d miss my friends and life. Of course, death is final, of course, I’m probably going to have more amazing opportunities if I stick with this.
but would you ask me to be tortured 24/7? Would you ask me to endure my brain?
Guys, I can’t do this anymore. I HATE MYSELF. No matter what anyone says, “Oh, you’re beautiful,” or “You’re talented,” or “You have so many friends,” my brain says, “You forgot to say happy birthday to one of your best friends,” or “You’re a piece of garbage because you didn’t finish your goals today,” or “You lost that board game so therefore you are a failure, and you will always be.”
Honestly, I give up. I can hear you all telling me to just ignore the voices. I do know I’m confident. And beautiful. And brave. But that doesn’t stop the voices.
Look, nothing stops, okay? I thought I was okay a few weeks ago. Then I wanted to kill myself and started making a plan. And a week later, wow, surprise, surprise, I still want to kill myself.
I was talking to one of my best friends for the entire summer, then a few days ago he said he couldn’t “be my therapist anymore,” and that we’ve never had anything in common, basically, he thinks we’re not friends anymore.
The worst part is, I was even trying to be positive for once. I asked him how HE was doing instead of telling him that I hated myself again.
It’s a continual cycle. I set goals. I fail. Then I get frustrated with myself, like, obviously I shouldn’t have made that mistake. Then my brain starts calling me garbage. And I hate that voice. I hate myself for not being over this, for not being “better.”
If I was better, the boys wouldn’t leave me. If I was better, I’d love my life more. If I was better, I’d stop pushing everyone who cares about me away just to prove that they don’t care.
I’m sure some part of me wants help, but another part of me is so frickin DONE WITH THIS LIFE that I don’t want people trying to stop me. Even trying to get help results in failure.
That’s my explanation for leaving. I’ve heard it all, so don’t try to tell me it’s not a good idea. I’m kinda sick of that.
I’m sure you all hate me. Or don’t care. I guess my point in writing this is to prove to my sucky brain that, yeah, no one cares. So, whatever you guys wanna do with your lives, I don’t care, just please don’t preach to me about how bad suicide is, I know and I have weighed these things very carefully.
Ah, and if you’re wondering if I’m serious, I don’t have plans, I think I’d miss my life so I don’t really want to die, but I need some relief from my self-loathing, so maybe I’ll knock myself out or hospitalize myself. Sounds perfect.
thanks for reading, I’m curious to see what happens, if literally no one comments like I bet they won’t. haha. It’s funny in a dark way, sorry but not sorry if you don’t get the joke. Bye for now.