I'm Done

Chapter 1

Deciding to kill myself wasn't an easy decision. I tried cutting, but that didn't do enough for me. I tried getting help, but it just seemed like no one cares. I really don't understand the human brain. You listen to a loved one pour their heart out to you. They mention how depressed the are and how they are so alone, but you don't care!? What kind of logic is that? I think I am getting ahead of myself. Let me explain myself fully so you can begin to understand where I am coming from.

I've been dealing with depression for as long as I can remember. My parents divorced when I was 4, so I guess that may have been the start. It was always so hard to see other kids my age have both parents come to awards ceremonies, but I could only have one come due to the other having to work. It sucked. I always had friends growing up, but not as many as all of the other kids did. I would have two or three, but I think they only talked to me because they felt bad. That was basically my elementary school life.

Middle school worsened my mental health. This is the time everyone is beginning to date and their friend circle is expanding, while mine was dwindling. The people I thought were my friends abandoned me for the "popular" kids. All the guys seemed to run away from me. I was the weird girl, ya know. The girl who sits in the back of the class, doesn't talk, and has no friends. I had decent grades, but I never really cared about how good my grades were. It was so hard to care about things when you didn't really care about yourself.

High school completely destroyed any remaining care about myself. It wasn't so bad in the beginning. I got a boyfriend and a best friend, but turns out they loved each other more than they loved me. I also joined the golf team, but that didn't work out since I was "too fat" for the uniform. I didn't know that you had to be skinny for golf but I guess I'm stupid right? I also tried to talk to the guidance counselors at school, but they were all girls. I don't really like talking to females about my problems. They tend to be judgy.

My home life at the time wasn't any better. My mom and I have always had a rocky relationship. She thinks that since I have had a better childhood than her, that I don't have anything to be sad about. She also treats my two brothers better than she treats me. She favors them. If I talked to her about my feelings, she would tell me that I'm being ridiculous and that I'm acting like a needy child. If the boys would talk to her, she comforts them like they are five and does whatever she can to make them feel better. She also judges me. She'll make comments on my weight or how much I decided to each during one meal. I couldn't live with my dad because I didn't have my license and finding rides to and from school would be hard.

I started cutting during my sophomore year. Since I'm a junior, I've probably been consistently cutting myself for about a year and a half. At first, they were small scratches on the inside of my legs, but now they are deep wounds across my stomach and up my arms. It's not that I want to hurt, it's that I like the pain and the distraction. You might be thinking, does it make you feel ugly when you look at yourself in the mirror? The answer to that, is no. I don't look at myself in mirrors. My bathroom mirror is covered with black wrap, and I don't have any mirrors in my room. Plus, I don't care about anything anymore. I don't care about my looks or my health. I don't care about the people around me or my grades.

I tried getting help before, like I mentioned earlier, so let me tell you a little bit about that. At the start of my junior year, there was a new guidance counselor. His name was Mr. Smith. I decided that I should try talking to him since he was a guy and maybe he wouldn't judge me as much as the females would. I soon began talking to him everyday. Most of the time it was little chit chat, but one time he saw the gashes on my arm and started asking me questions about what happened. That's when I told him everything. I let it all out. I told him about my parents, middle school, my past couple years of high school. He obviously reported me. The principle called my mom, but she didn't do anything. Well, she did do something. She called me a "good for nothing attention whore". So I mean, Mom of the Year right?

Killing myself seems like the only solution now. I have no emotions. I'm not happy or sad, I'm empty. All I am is a waste of space, so why do I need to be alive? I have nothing to live for. My grades have gone to shit so there is no chance of getting into law school like I previously thought. My family obviously doesn't care that I want to die, so what am I to them? I was about to write about my friends, but I don't have any of those so there clearly isn't anything to live for there. I don't have any pets or anything that I need to take care of. I did almost have a baby, but the keyword to that statement is almost. No one cares. I don't think anyone have ever cared about me.

Everyone says that if you take your own life that you don't realize the people that have made your life better. Is that the truth, or is it something they say to try and change your mind? If I try and figure out the people who have made my life better, will it change my mind, or it it simply be a waste of my time? Although, nothing could really waste my time now since I don't care about my life anymore. So let's take a look at all of the people that have affected my life...