Death was always on my mind. It was the only thing i ever thought of. Even at school, i could never be able to concentrate because all i wanted to do was die.
I lost most of my friends because i either pushed them away and they gave up on me or i told them i don’t want to be friends with them anymore.
My family never liked me. They thought i was too ‘weird’ and they’d say i did things for attention. I mean, my problems aren’t as bad as other depressed people out there but depression is something i have and its impossible to get rid of.
I was planning on killing myself today after school by slitting my wrists so deep that i bleed to death. But i threw out my blade to make my girlfriend happy. Though that doesn’t mean i have other things to use. I broke too many promises, promises that i’d never cut again. Broke that. That i’d talk to someone about my problems. I never did that. That i’d get sleeping pills to help me sleep. Can’t do that because i know i’ll end up having a few handfuls instead of 1.
Death is something that won’t get off my mind. Death is something i dream about every night. Death is something i want and that won’t change.
I remember when i first tried attempting to kill myself. Well i didn’t even try, i just kept cutting and there was so much blood i passed out for a few minutes. My mum found out a few weeks later from my best friend (who i don’t talk to as much now) he told a teacher at school who then rang my mum about it. My mum called me an attention seeker. My dad said i was being stupid. My sister didn’t look me in the eye for ages.
They were the things that got me into depressed in the first place. My family didn’t love me. They acted like they cared but they really didn’t. I still get in trouble for little things i do, like if i don’t make my bed, i’ll get yelled at and get called names. I don’t consider them as my family anymore. I got told by my siblings that they wanted me dead. If only they knew i wanted me dead too.
And this is why living sucks.
We blame society but we are society.