It’s that feeling kicking in, again, like you’re the most worthless piece of crap and nobody will be there for you.
Everyone around me is content with their life, maybe not happy but content enough not to need some depressive ***** stepping up on their sad-feelings-free turf. And that moment you despise those people, those who don’t have to deal with all that stuff; People loving how things are in their head, in their entourage. But you also feel sorry, sorry for you needing those people close to my heart to lend a shoulder to cry on. You’re not doing this for fun, you’re not being sad because you want to be sad. you want to be happy or at least content. you want to be understood but like Britney said, “They hear but they don’t listen”.
No matter how many tears you’ve cried, how many days you’ve spent alone in your room not eating. Nobody cares. Nobody wants to care, because they don’t deserve to have to care, to be burdened by somebody else’s feelings because they have their own life to deal with. They have people to ***** about, happy things to share with their friends, they don’t want it to be ruined by someone crying for attention.
So you close yourself up. You bottle everything up. You shut your blinds. You lock yourself in your room.
You don’t want to eat. You don’t want to speak. You don’t want to do anything because you’re scared of everything. You can cry, you can sleep but you wish you could stop thinking. You wish you could have amnesty with your mind, for only one second, you want to overcome that darkness without bothering anyone. It’s all your asking for, stopping everything without anybody being bothered.
So you think about suicide. Ending your life is a way of ending it all. It’s not the bravest, but it’s the safest. Ending everything to be relieved, finally. The finale to your life. Not the greatest finale, but it’s all you can get. You know nobody will mind you getting out of their life. Well, they will at first. They will feel guilty about not helping you, for being there, but still abscent. For hearing, but not listening and you will enjoy their guilt, it’ll be pure selfish joy, for all the times you’ve been hurt and unheard.
But they will be okay. Life goes on for them, thankfully, not for you, you’ll be at a better place. Or you think you will, but you don’t care.
Right now, it’s the end of the tunnel. The beginning of something new, less scary than having to wake up to live your nightmare.
1 comment
i feel u hey, i also want them to feel quilty for not caring enuf, or appreciating me enuf. but sometimes the people we leave behind we never knw what scars we leave. have u ever thought of someone dat u loved and missed but u know dat sometimes u just want to let them how much u love and appreciate them – da difference is at at least u can let them know but when u’re gone its over and done with.