Today I wanted to take my life.
I don’t normally tell people about this, most people judge me and hurt me so I don’t see the point.
for the past few weeks, I’ve been having these terrible thoughts about myself.
I don’t belong here. I don’t belong in this state, in this community, I don’t belong in my group of friends, I don’t belong with my crush, I don’t even belong with my friends on social media.
I even try to get support but there are only 2 people I’ve been talking to IRL for the past few months… I can’t even tell my friends I want to die because they won’t get it, they’ll panic and freak out and leave.
last night everything just fell on top of me. I realized I hated myself. We got some ammonia the other day for a science experiment, and so I looked up on google if you can die by drinking ammonia. Turns out you can. It burns you from the inside out. Quite lovely to my depressed brain. Then I started thinking of other ways to die- carbon monoxide, jumping off a bridge, shooting myself, stabbing myself… so many possibilities.
I tried to sleep, but of course I couldn’t. at that point I was too far in, started thinking about how my friend’s lives would be better off without me because obviously I’m such a mess and such a burden all the time.
If that wasn’t enough, I started crying hysterically because heckin I want this to be OVER. I don’t want to deal with my brain anymore. It’s so much torture. I hate feeling haunted. I hate that I hate myself. I wish it were all over and I could be free from the demons trying to kill me.
Today, my brain kept whispering to me, “It’s your last day.” I’d get mad at my sister, it would say, “Are you sure you want to yell at your sister on your last day?” or during breakfast, “Is this really what you want to eat on your last day?”
It gives me chills just thinking about it.
I messaged my crush, told him to take care of my sister for me, that I want to die but it’s not his fault, and his life would be better without me.
All I could think about was taking my life. Every moment it came back to me, this is the last time you’re talking to your brother. This is the last time you’re hugging your mom.
By the time my crush responded, I was less suicidal and realized how much trouble I was in. He made me call him, and I kept laughing at these things he was asking me to do, like tell my parents. He’s like, “Why are you laughing?” and I was like, “It’s funny… in a dark way.”
Then it hit me that I’d wanted to kill myself for real this time.
I had a mental breakdown. I was crying so hard my whole body was shaking, I couldn’t breathe, everything made me cry.
I eventually was brave enough to go tell my mom, though it scared the crapp out of me, wondering what she’d think.
She was unsurprised. She told me it’s okay to get a therapist, but that Satan is making my thoughts worse, and I need to keep having a good schedule and read the scriptures and pray and do other things. Like she always says. But she wasn’t mad. Or that freaked out, which was surprising.
Obviously, she went and told my dad first thing. There’s a reason I didn’t want to tell him- he’s very against mental health, I think he thinks it comes from the devil, and every time I try to suggest he gets a therapist(he has very severe depression, it’s kinda obvious) he freaks out and gets super tense. What is up with him?? He really needs a therapist. He’s a negative energy cloud a lot of the time, spreads it all to us, can’t ever calm down.
So here I am. Still shaking. Shivering. Crying. I told my friend and she said I’m brave and she loves me. It made me cry. I guess when you’re depressed your brain believes no one cares about you and tries to prove that to you. But it can’t. I know people care. I drag them down under with me and they still love me. It’s the most insane concept ever. But somehow, it’s true. I know there are a LOT of people who don’t care at all about me or if I died. But a few people do.
That’s my story. The closest I’ve come to actually killing myself. Thanks for your support, thanks for listening. I need you guys.