I’ve been depressed for years, I recognized my depression when I was just seven. Constant arguing between my parents, the back to back moving from place to place, and eventually I find myself alone in school. The only comfort I had was the comfort of those who were just as, if not more depressed than I was. It wasn’t long before I caught on to cutting. At first I started with a key. It didn’t cut at all, scraping the skin, but it still helped, somewhat. So years go by, and my mom finally finds out I’ve been cutting because I made the mistake of wearing a short sleeve shirt after I addressed the wounds (By this time, I was using a razor). Fast forward to two years ago…and I’d already attempted suicide three times, all of which I obviously failed. I didn’t know I was so dumb that I can’t even kill myself, but anyway. My mom decided to kick me out on account of something I said while I was drugged up on the pills I swallowed the third time. My only choices were to live with my grandma or my dad. I chose my grandma on my dad’s side because my dad’s dad is an ass…a big one at that. Plus, my own old man doesn’t understand my situation. So a couple months into the new environment, my mom and grandma, along with a few others decide to hold a little meeting with me in the middle, making claims of me being manipulative and trying to tear the family apart. They hounded on me so bad with false accusations, that I could barely think. By the end, I still had a shit load on my chest that I couldn’t get out, they jumbled my brain with lies. Not to mention, my mom said that once I’m on meds, I can go home again. Come to find out, a few weeks later, I go ahead and call my mom, told her I was on my meds, and asked if I could come home. She told me that we’d already gone over this and that I could never go home again. Before she finished what else she was saying, I hung up in her face, and haven’t heard from her since….

Now, every time I look in the mirror, all I can see is hatred, and I can feel that my will to die is one hundred times stronger than my will to live. My motivation to live is gone, my will to have fun is gone, and I can’t work without getting fired because I’m a liability if I end up killing myself on the job. The longer I stay here with my grandmother, the more I feel like hell on earth is already here. She gets mad at every little mistake anyone makes and when I first started getting food stamps for myself, she forced me to let her have it first…and every time she uses it, she only leaves me with a few dollars when MOST of the time, I don’t feel like eating what she cooks, so I cook my own food or get tv dinners. But you know what…she’s family, and that’s how she makes me do what she wants when she wants it. She says that we’re family, and we’re supposed to help each other. I understand that, it’s all good and dandy until you call me while I’m trying to relax and wind down with my cousin, and tell me I forgot to leave you my food stamp card. Yes…she did that. She should already fucking know that If I go to someone’s house, I’m taking my card so I can get food, no exceptions….I don’t know…I can’t even think straight…I got so fucking wasted the other night trying to drown and smoke out my sorrows, but all it made me do is see just how I don’t belong on this earth…