Hey, Journal... I guess I'm just a bit more depressed as usual... This is going to be a short one because I'm just not in the mood to write, but I'm just going to write this one with just depressing writings:
"Do you know what it's like? To be trapped in your own mind? To hate yourself more than you could ever imagined? To have nobody care? To feel alone? To feel empty? To not want anything to do with the world? To have your whole family hate you?
To cut yourself just to remember you can still feel? To have suicidal thoughts? To cry yourself to sleep? To just want to shut off from the world? To just want to end it all? To care about someone only to get hurt in the end? To risk only to fall?
To fuck everything up? To love with so many regrets? To ruin everything? To take all the blame? To feel so low? To feel depressed? Do you know what it feels like?
Because I do, & I hate it."
"If you don't understand mental illness, good. Good for you. You shouldn't have to understand. If you don't understand why some people can't get out of their bed in the mornings. Good. I hope you jump out of bed every single day, ready to take the world by storm.
If you don't understand how someone could drag a blade across their skin. Good. I hope you never get that desperate to feel something. If you don't understand what would drive someone to keep starving themselves or purging despite everything they've lost in the process. Good. I hope you stay healthy & happy in your own body.
If you don't understand how someone can be so overwhelmed with anxiety to the point where they can barely function. Good. I hope you always feel confident. If you don't understand how someone can go night after night with no sleep. Good. I hope you rest peacefully every night.
If you don't understand why someone won't just go to church or rehab or find someone who can help them. Good. I hope you always have somewhere to turn. If you don't understand how someone can keep swallowing bottles of pills, tying knots in ropes or standing at the tops of bridges. Good. I hope you're never that desperate for relief.
If you don't understand. Good. You're not supposed to. But under no circumstances does that mean you can judge. Because that's just unfair & cruel."
"Suddenly, the mirrors shows someone fat. Suddenly, wrists become paper. Suddenly, the scale becomes thy enemy. Suddenly, pencil sharpeners are weapons.
Suddenly, pillows are tears. Suddenly, life is worthless. Suddenly, blood is relief. Suddenly, sleep is an escape.
Suddenly, meals turns into torture. Suddenly, friends are fake. Suddenly, makeup becomes necessary. Suddenly, everything becomes ugly."
"Six years old & I fell from a tree, & my scraped knees were proof, as I told the story to the kids at school. My mother bandaged them up & kissed me on the cheek & told me that I'll feel better in the morning.
Nine years old & my father hit me, & my mother's tears were proof. As she screamed at him at 2 a.m., I hid in my room that night & I heard the door slam loudly & my mother wasn't home in the morning.
Twelve years old & I hated school & my failed report card was proof, as I changed my 'D's' to 'A's' with a pen. My mother never noticed, & I stayed up late every night & I could barely get up in the morning.
Fourteen years old & a girl broke my heart, & my crippled self worth was proof, as I poured my thoughts into a journal that my mother never found. & my best friend patted my shaking spine & told me I'd forget about that chick in the morning.
Sixteen years old & I'd given up. & the slits on my wrists were proof as the blood trickles onto the floor. My mother followed the drops on the carpet & she screams when she found me, & this time... There was no morning."
"I am good for a while. I'll talk more, laugh more, sleep & eat normally... But then something happens.
Like a switch turns off somewhere & I am left with is the darkness in my mind. But each time, it seems like I sink. Deeper & deeper & I'm scared...
Terrified that one day I won't make it back up. I feel like I'm gasping for air, screaming for help.
But everyone looks at me with confused faces, wondering what I'm struggling over, when they're all doing just fine. & that makes me feel crazy."
So good night again, Journal...
Hello, my friends.
(A/N: A friendly reminder- If you do like the story, please consider to vote for the chapters. Thank you!
~G)
827 word count.
ČTEŠ
Journal Number One
TeenfikceHe was an ordinary student... with only several problems. He had a normal life... until "it" happened. He doesn't know how to cope... so he writes it all down in journals. Hidden in his room. What'll you find? Will you find his smile? Or his happine...
