I don’t even know anymore.

In October of last year, I was going to hang myself. I was living over six hours away at school. No one I knew there. Grades dropped to an all time low. Before I could do it, my mother withdrew me and brought me home, yelling the most obscene things at me. She knew nothing of my self harm or plans, and she made me feel like worse shit than I am. I went to the local high school again. Things got worse, but also better. I got a girlfriend. A good friend of mine died. So did my grandpa. I can’t bear to outlive anyone else. Especially not my grandma, though I think she resents me for having no interest in either sex or men.

In the course of a year, I gained hundreds of scars. Many people have told me repeatedly to kill myself, my nine-year-old brother included. Both of my brothers treat me like crap, and my mom usually does too. She refuses to take me to therapy, a psychiatrist, anything. Junior year is about to start. I don’t know what to do. I’m just living for my best friends and like two percent of my family. My father probably wouldn’t even care if I did it. He didn’t care about my granpa, whom he loved. I just know that it would take about ten minutes, and I’d never have to deal with anything again. I’m so scared of myself right now.