There was a time before where I would’ve gone through with it. When I would’ve ended it all.
I was naïve back then. Mental health wasn’t something anyone taught us about. All I ever heard was, it’s just part of puberty, being a teenager, growing up, school is mean. But it was never about any of that for me. If it were, I wouldn’t still get those feelings. Depression is not a joke, not a phase, not an excuse.
I was oblivious to it all.
When I was fourteen I started to notice the dark thoughts more. After the year of 2007 where I lost both grand mothers and the dog I’d grown up with, I started to lose it. School seemed pointless, even though my grades were always good, but eventually we would all die, so what was the point in carrying on. Why should we care?
I desperately wanted to be younger again. Be in a time where I didn’t understand the harshness of this world. How bitter people could be. Before I lost anyone.
I’d come home from school and rewatch all my favorite Disney films. At that point I hadn’t seen them in a while and they conjured up so much nostalgia in me that I would cry throughout all the film. I’d lost my childhood. Gone were the days of waking up early to watch Pokémon, of running around in fancy dress, of looking out the window to see who was out to play that day.
Every night I cried myself to sleep for the better part of the year. No I am not exaggerating. I was a mess. That’s when I started writing shitty poems.
I would think about dying all the time. I would go somewhere and drown myself. Or take too many painkillers. Those were my top two options.
Suicide is not the cowards way out. although a lot of people tell me otherwise, I believe you have to really be ready, to not be afraid.
I understand why they do it.
But I am too afraid.
What if it goes wrong and I fail?
Who would find my body?
How can I do that to someone else, who doesn’t deserve the memory of a dead girl.
I still think about dying today. I still believe that I am not worthy of a life.
But I won’t do anything about it. I’ll carry on taking my meds and writing this blog. I’ll go for long walks with my dog because she is the one thing that keeps me going.
And I will live, even if I don’t want to.