Drowning in the hourglass.

Everyone has troubles. It’s life. Everyone endures bullshit from time to time. Though some, in fact, are worse than others. I’ve never told anyone any of this before. And to be honest, I’m scared. I’m afraid of being judged. Of being misunderstood in my story. But I’ll tell you.

Here goes nothing.

I’m seventeen years old, and a senior in high school. I’ve always made decent grades, and am well liked by most people. I’m the funny chunky girl. Here’s the catch. I’m dying on the inside. I feel so.. broken. So lost. And to be honest, I’ve felt this way for years. I put a smile on my face and make people laugh. Why? Nobody asks questions when you seem happy. I come from a broken home. Usually this means divorce, but no. When I was eight years old, my father died from brain cancer. I know it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal, but when you’re eight, you’re old enough to remember, yet young enough to not understand. It traumatized me, and I still haven’t accepted his death.

After my father’s death, my mother went downhill. At the age of seventeen now, I can report she still hasn’t fully recovered. She became an alcoholic, and addicted to Oxycotton. That was also the first time she attempted suicide. She neglected me. Hit me twice that I remember. Once, I wasn’t ready to go somewhere, so she backhanded me. The other, I had forgotten a movie at my grandmas, so she hit me in the chest. It knocked the wind out of me. I have never brought those two times up, but i’ll never forget them. You never forget when you get hit. I was scared she’d do worse. I’m glad to say she didn’t…physically. During this time, my sister raised me. To this day, she still sees me as her baby. To this day, I still see her as more of a mother.

My mom has dated a lot of piece of shit guys. I haven’t had the best example either. I’ve watched my mother be used and abused and come back for more. I’ve watched her waste herself away time after time. I’ve watched her be put into handcuffs and dragged away from me. I’ve seen more than I honestly ever should have had to.

I’ve watched her try to slice her wrists open time after time. I’ve watched her down bottles of pills in attempts to end her own life time and time again. I know she hurts.. but does she realize she’s not the only one?

Time and time again, I’ve contemplated ending my life. Day in, and day out, I’ve had my mother make me feel worthless. I’ve felt like a burden since the age of 9. I don’t really feel anyone cares. People pretend to care, but in all reality most don’t.

When I was 14, my older sister, my mother figure, was diagnosed with cervical cancer. It’s nothing majorly serious, and most can be caught and cured in no time. I’m not that lucky. It spread, and turned into ovarian cancer, which there isn’t a known cure for. She’s still sick at this moment. I could still lose her. I’m scared. If I lose my sister, I don’t have anybody I can turn to.

I don’t see anyone reading this either. But.. at least it’s out there. Maybe I’ll feel better afterwards.

I’m honestly just ranting. I have so much to say.. but I don’t know where to begin. I’ve never really cut before. I used to scratch myself with a staple when I was younger. I’ve always been too scared to cut. That is, until recently. I took a piece of glass and hacked at my leg, and I was left with some nasty looking cuts. Do I feel ashamed? Yes. Do I find it sad that this is what I’ve turned to? Yes. I look at them and wonder why I’ve come to this. I wonder why life has driven me to extreme measures to feel something else. I continually tell myself that things will be okay, and that everything in the end will be fine, or it’s not the end.. but I don’t know if I believe myself anymore. I feel so lost.

There’s a lot more I’ve been through than what I’ve talked about, but this is a post, not a novel. If I were to relish everything I’ve experienced, I think I’d leave here more fucked up than I already am. I feel like I’m drowning in an endless sea of bullshit. I’m tired.

Tired of everything, honestly.

I feel like this labyrinth of suffering I’m in, I’ll never get out of. I’m doomed to live this shit life forever because “I can handle it.” It’s in quotes because that’s all I ever get told. Anyone I tell that I’m upset to, they say “God has given you the life you have because you can handle it.” Whatever. If there is a god, he hates me.

I was an asshole in my last life, so in this life I get nothing but a constant storm of shit.

I wonder when this will all end. I wonder when I’ll get to be normal. I wonder when I’ll get to stop worrying if I’ll make it through the day. I wonder when I’ll be able to come home and not worry about my mother trying to kill herself. I wonder when I’ll be happy again.

I’m sorry for ranting. I had to get all of this off of my chest or I feel I might just end it.

If you read this, thank you.

If you skipped past it, I understand.

Thank you for giving me the time of day. Nobody else will.