So a few years ago, my first year in college, I tried to kill myself. I was in a bad place. I was living in a new city, had always been terrible at meeting people, and was under a lot of pressure to do well academically so I could keep my scholarship. Needless to say I survived, but I lost my scholarship, dropped out, and moved back home to live with my parents.
I was angry and depressed a lot. I got in fights with my family. My parents didn’t really get what had happened. After all, its not like I was physically abused or any kind of substance abuser or some other sob story. Its not like I had an excuse. All I did was try to kill myself.
Everyone I knew pretty much stopped caring about me. They had no more expectations of me. At the absolute worst moment in my life, everyone I loved, respected, or looked up to abandoned me.
I was in debt. My school was making me pay back the scholarship money I had already used since I dropped out. I tried taking classes at the local state university, but I didn’t really put much into it. I had a stint working as a landscaper, but my boss was all too happy to let me go for being a shitty worker. One time my fighting with my parents got so bad that they through me out of the house. I went to a therapist who diagnosed me with major depression. They gave me a few different drugs to try, but all of them just made me worse. I made plans to try killing myself again, but when it came down to it I couldn’t go through with it.
Fuck I couldn’t even get suicide right.
One day I woke up and I was just tired of living like this. I wanted to make another go at life even if I sucked at it. I got a job making coffee and waiting tables. I managed to pay off my debt and started taking school seriously again. After a few years of working full time and way too many summer courses I managed to graduate debt free. I even got a decent job after graduation.
So now I have no debt, a decent job, and an apartment on my own. I even managed to repair my relationships with my family. And you know what? I am still not happy. I wake up every day wondering if that’s the day I will finally go through with it. Deep down I still hate myself, and I still resent everyone for abandoning me when I needed them most. Sure, they started caring again, but I had to earn it. And you never quite trust someone the same way again when you know exactly what it takes to get them to turn their back on you.
Sometimes I think I might just be crazy. Maybe it would be better if I just died.