I just don’t know anymore.

First off, I will and can admit that I am a selfish person, but if it wasn’t for some of the shit that has happened in my life, I wouldn’t be like this in the first place. But the point of this post is not to delve in the past, but to talk about the now, no matter how large the pasts role has on it.

I am an 18 year old girl and this is not the first time I have had suicidal thoughts. I think most people on this website don’t come here to post their first-time suicide contemplations. If any of you are like me, you come here as a last resort, or something close to that. I am probably clinically depressed, probably have been most of my life, but I have never had a diagnosis or any help or treatment in the matter. My mother has manic depression, so obviously this shit is in my genes. If I recall correctly, she has attempted suicide at least once. I don’t know my fathers take on the subject– I have never known him.

At the age of 12 I discovered self mutilation as a treatment for my anger and depression. I’ve hit walls to the point of breaking bones, I’ve got scars to prove that my cutting is deep, and sometimes when I am really down, I just think of the most tortuous ways to make myself bleed, although the thoughts are pure fantasy, for when I was 15 I stopped cutting altogether, although I kept the punching up, but to a minimum. I stopped cutting for almost three years until recently when things hit a breaking point.

All my life I have had the normal straight feelings for guys, but I have also had feelings for girls as well. In spite of that, I do have a boyfriend whom I dearly love. At one point in time, I would have done anything for him, and actually did. In August I was supposed to attend a great liberal arts school. I am a fairly intelligent person, so the college was perfect for me. A couple months prior, he decided to join the Marines. All summer, it worked in my head until finally, when I was about to start school, I thought that the only way for me to be with him was to postpone my education until he was out of boot camp. He is scheduled to leave for boot camp May 17th. I really do realize what a mistake I made by not just sucking it up and going to school now, but back then my head was made up. My life since August has been a complete and utter waste of time.

Because of the way I was brought up, I have learned to not let anybody close to me. I wouldn’t exactly say I am close to my family, although that is what they are there for. My relationship with my mom is unhealthy. I strive to feel loved, which I know I am, although her love for me is never shown. I bend backwards for her sometimes just to get invisible appreciation from her. The last time she hugged me was on November 3rd 2008, after we both were in a car accident. That’s been over a year, and in that year, there are many things that I should have been hugged for. I graduated from High School in that time. What mother wouldn’t hug her daughter after graduation? I was a damn good student in school. I had a million and one reasons for her to take me in her arms and tell me how proud she was of me… But I didn’t get that. Which in turn makes me a bitter person. Because of my mom, I have learned to not let people in. Two people in my life have broken down the wall I keep myself surrounded by though. That would be my boyfriend and my best friend.

As I have already stated, I have had “feelings” for the same sex. Over the last few months, those feelings developed into a crush on my best friend, who was, or least I thought, completely straight. I “came out” to her in October, but only telling her that I was curious. Recently though, I realized that my feelings were not just the curious ones, but serious ones, so I told her that I was a bisexual. About two weeks ago, we were talking on the subject again. For some reason or another, she finally decided to tell me that she actually had similar feelings as me. Feelings of curiosity and attraction to girls. Somehow I mustered the courage to tell her that I basically had a crush on her, and she said she maybe felt the same way. A few days after that conversation, I went to her house. We danced around the topic of our feelings, not exactly telling each other the depth of our emotions. The more I thought about the possibility that she could be mine–something I merely dreamt about days prior– was both mind blowing and exhilarating. At that point in time, I would have left my boyfriend for her.

That night, my boyfriend was due to come over to her house to hang out. While he was there, her and I slept in the same bed, while he slept on the floor. There was some groping involved as we both lay there, but that is all that had taken place. The next day he left, so we were left alone to talk about our feelings. For some reason, I fooled myself into thinking that things between her and were going to be smooth and peachy keen. But obviously they weren’t. She basically told me that things were too weird, too awkward. I’ve never really been rejected or heartbroken until that day. It really did crush me… But what could I do? I had to move on. After she told me that, I felt too overwhelmed with emotions. I felt like I had to go back to my old cutting ways to feel better. So I did. I took the blade out of a box cutter and I cut my forearm. This cut was deep, but not as deep as I have before. Later that night, her and I were laying in her bed. She was coloring. I found a lighter and I lit the flame for about ten seconds, then I would gingerly run it the length of my cut to sort of cauterize it. She knew I was going to cut earlier and she didn’t stop me. When I was messing with the lighter, she didn’t stop me either. In fact, sometimes she actually watched. After a while with the cauterizing, I got the courage to plunged the hot end of the lighter straight onto my skin, on and around my cut. Each time I pressed the lighter to my skin, it was like a drug that got me high. The pain in my arm wasn’t really pain, but pleasure. For the few seconds that my skin was burning, I was in total bliss, not a single care in my mind. My only thought was to just to do it again for the beautiful escape it brought. So I continued this sick game until my skin started to blister.

I stayed the night again because the winter storm we were experiencing was too bad for me to drive home. The next morning we were awoken by a phone call. A Marines recruiter wanted to have a sit down with her and discuss the possibility of her joining. He came over, and in that three hours time that he spent with her, she decided to was going to join them. I know anyone reading this has no idea who she is, but trust me on the matter, she is not Marines material. My boyfriend barely is. This left me upset. It hurt me to my core. I couldn’t take things any longer. I had to do something. I then remembered the lighter trick from last night. This time I did it on my inner left wrist. I wasn’t scared to shove the lighter on my skin right away like the night before. I did it and felt like a professional. I let the lighter get hotter this time, and each time I pressed it down on my wrist, I was sure to do it with all my might and to do it in the same exact spot. I did this about 5 times in the bathroom. I went back in her bedroom where they were both watching a movie and did it about 3 more times. I took a shower soon after and the burn was already blistered. The next day, we talked more about the situation between her and I, and we talked about her Marines decision. It hurt me more that than it normally would have. If it wasn’t for me spilling my guts and emotions to her, then her crushing them, I would have been able to accept the fact that she was going to do something so drastic. But because I was rejected like I was, it made things so much worse. This all sounds stupid to you readers, I know, I can only imagine, but the last few weeks have fucking sucked.

So this is where I am left. Alone. Maybe not for the time being, but soon enough I will be. She leaves February 8th. He leaves May 17th. After he leaves, I am not gonna have anyone there for me. They are the reasons why I haven’t gone crazy and done something totally stupid yet… Ironic how if I do actually succeed, they will be the reason. At least the prominent factor. I know I am selfish for needing them there for me, but I have to be selfish about them because they are all I have. I hate that I don’t know what I am going to do with my life. I am jealous that they half-ass know. Words can’t even express how stupid I feel for even having an inkling of  these emotions. Which leads me to believe that ending my life right now is best. I am a waste of space and if anyone actually honestly cared about me, I wouldn’t have gone through half the things I have. Knowing that, I can’t have hope for the future. I see it as a grim fog, waiting to pounce on me, throwing something else at me to make me bitter and unhappy. If I feel like this now how can things ever get better? I don’t know the answer to this question which leads me to hope that someone who actually took the time to read this long, pitiful post can shed some light. Light is what I need right now, because I am living in a complete darkness. The only light that I have seen in a while, is the light to the idea of suicide. I have even actually planned it out. I always pictured myself just taking a gun and blowing my head off, but that is too gruesome for my family members to see or someone else to cleanup. [Wow, look at that. If I were to die, I would STILL be considerate of others.] This led me to come up with a more subtle idea. If things come to the point that I actually will do this, I am gonna do the old exhaust trick with my car. Because I drive an SUV, it will take longer for the fumes to kill me, so I plan on setting the hose up, get in my car, start it, and take a handful of pills to knock me out. If the pills don’t kill me, the exhaust will. It’s a win win situation, folks.