diary entry #3

539 29 7
                                    

4.10pm

that's only how it is in school. i only talked about a few details of how my family background is but from there, you can definitely infer of what type of family i have.

my parents always quarrel. over small things like the cleanliness of the house, my dad going home late after work, and my mom not doing anything at home after work.

it's that messed up. i don't see the need to fight over small things when they can just do it together. or better, order my siblings and i to do it just like how they always do.

they fight on a weekly basis and if i tell you they're in good terms now, theyre gonna be in bad terms after a day or two.

it's really annoying at times but i'm so used to it. since young, they've been doing the same. non stop, except when i was around four to six when they were overseas working.

sometimes, when they fight, i think a lot of things.

"why is my family like this?"

"can't things be any better?"

"why is it my family?"

when they fight, they use my siblings and i as shields or weapons. they come to us when they need help like getting into the house at night, being the informant of the my mom or my dad's where abouts.

when they fight, i'm always the one who needs to take charge of the house. i learnt many house chores since young. from cooking, sweeping, mopping, ironing, and many more. so, welcome to the world of cinderella beacuse i get asked to do everything.

my parents don't cook when they fight so i have to cook for my siblings. my parents would give so much shit about the house being upside down and none of my siblings would start moving so i have to tell them to get their asses up.

it's really hard for me because i have other things. when things get too difficult, i break down so badly when no one is around. i look at myself in the mirror and i just have to curse at myself.

"why are you even born? you're born to be a slave. you're meant for this tough life. they say you're given this life because you can handle it but guess what, you're just suffering and hating yourself as you got through this mess. you're gonna end up suicidal and this life will mess the shit out of your brain. nothing will make it better if this continues. even if you're doing a lot, you just mean like a piece of shit to them." i said to myself on the mirror.

once i was breaking down while washing the dish and a plate just had to fall and break into pieces, just like my life, scattered and cant be fixed. just another trash.

i bent down to pick up the sharp-edged pieces and piled them up. unconsciously, i took a piece and started to slide it on my wrist. a few times and blood started bursting out. and i stopped, because of the fear of dying. i let that one slit on my wrist give me enough pain that i could ever take.

my parents were on the other room, not knowing anything. just like how they don't know what their kid is going through.

just like what many people say, "you wouldn't want anyone to know if you really want to kill yourself or depression"

it's true to a certain extent, depending on the person. some people tell it out to get help. but some people bottle it in to avoid the attention and help it will bring.

i'm the bottling part. i don't tell my friends, family. no matter who is it, no matter how close, no matter what is the relationship, i would prefer not to say it.

i want to be happy and with people knowing, i feel like it would bring in more times when i'm reminded of how much i hate myself.

and to me, having depression might seem pitiful to people. they might only start being there or friends with you because they pity you.

i'm not sure if that's the real case but that's how i see it. and the way i portray it to be makes me bottle everything up.

once i had a small breakdown in school and my teacher was really concerned about me. she told me to find the counsellor or talk to an adult because bottling it up wouldn't help. and she proceeded into telling me how i shouldn't be having small breakdowns in school, and walked off coldly.

it might not exactly be the reason, but this is why i bottle things up.

i squeeze everything into a small bottle, hoping it's not going to burst soon because i'm just 15. and i have a lot more years to go and a lot more of things i have to bottle in.

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