I Just Want It To End

I’ve been depressed all my life, it runs in my family. It really sucks, but you get used to it after a while. I’ve always acted differently then other kids my age, I guess you could say I was more mature than them. And because of that, I never really fit in. I had some friends, one I’m still friends with now, but I never really felt complete.
Fourth grade was the first time I thought about ending it all. I just didn’t want to live anymore. I don’t really remember it that much. I never came up with a plan, and it never happened. I must have mentioned it to my parents, because they admitted me to a behavioral health hospital. I can tell you honestly that it was horrible. I was the youngest one there. It was frightening, I had to watch someone cut while I ate my lunch.
Now I am a freshman in high school, and I am severely depressed. It’s not fun, but you all probably already know that. I have a great group of friends, they have helped me whenever I need it. My family is so loving and supportive, they help me whenever I need it.
It’s not enough. I’m so unhappy with my life. I’ve cut, hoping that it will help, but it only works in the moment, yet, I can’t find it in me to stop. I barely eat anymore, only when I’m reminded. I’m just not hungry. I cry so easily now, and at the littlest thing too, like a sad book.
And worst of all, and I hate that I think this, but ever since fourth grade, my thoughts of suicide have never left my head. I think that if I was actually brave enough to do it, i’d already of been dead for a while.
My parents have me on medicine, but it just doesn’t seem to work. I see a counselor twice a week, but I still hate myself.
I have such a low self esteem, and I have no idea why, everybody tells me that I’m beautiful, that I’m skinny, that they would love to have my body. But I hate it. I have to wear make-up to hide my face, and I hate that I rely on it; I hate that I wear so much. I hate that some days, I can’t even leave the house because I don’t think I look good enough. I hate that I wear baggy clothes to hide my body; I hate that I’ve tried to starve myself to lose weight, that I’ve tried to make myself throw up.
I know I need help, but nothing at all seems to work. I feel like no one cares, but my friends and family always tell me they do. I feel like no one loves me, but my friends and family always tell me they do. I just don’t feel complete anymore, I just want it to end. I can’t take this suffering any more. I really hope that someday, I can feel brave enough to end my life.