I’m sorry

I’m going to start off by saying that my life itself isn’t horrible. I was not molested as a child, my parents don’t hit me. From a distance, it must look pretty great. Which is why it makes it so incredibly difficult to make it through the day.

No, my parents may not hit me, but they’re never here and it hurts. People called me a spoiled ***** and get mad when I complain about no one ever being home, because my life is ‘perfect’, right? I would trade all of my useless, meaningless shit to have my parents be home one night when I fall asleep.

Don’t get me wrong here, it’s not just that that’s driven me to feel this way. People have treated me like shit since I started kindergarten when I was three. I was bullied almost everyday for eleven years. They were awful to me. They called me fat, stupid ugly, and yo. know what? I am. My IQ can’t be higher than 100. I look like a fucking gorilla. I got tired of all of that. I decided to do something, so when I was ten I started purging. At first it was multiple times a day. It hurt but I needed to lose weight. I had to be skinny. It happened after awhile. I strayed losing weight. But they still called me fat. I couldn’t understand. But I kept at it. There were periods where I’d try to stop, and it would work for a bit but then I’d relapse.

Things changed when I got into high school. People were nice to me. They respected me in a way that I’d never seen. I didn’t know how to take it. I’d dealt with years of being abused, everyday going into class I knew what to expect. I knew I’d be laughed at, have things thrown at me. I learned to block out sounds and dodge.

What I didn’t know how to do was react when I’d walk into a room and see someone smile politely at me. I was scared. For months I refused to believe anything except that it was a joke, they’re all fooling me, making an idiot out of me.

Then when exams came around, my stupid brain couldn’t handle it all, so I started having panic attacks. I’d be close to passing out before each exam. I got through them with the worst averages of my life. That was the first time I ever seriously considered killing myself. I didn’t care anymore.

In the June exams, I realised that the stress was going to eat me alive, I needed something. So I started cutting. It helped. It was better than anything. For an hour or two after, I’d feel at peace. I wouldn’t think. But then, it would all come crashing back and the feelings of suicide would be stronger.

Over the summer, my friends found out. They’ve been great, they really have. Especially Laura. She got me to stop cutting, she got me to start eating and stop purging. She’s been amazing, but still not a day goes by where I don’t think about that. I feel like it’s a part of me. I’ve gained so much weight, the stress is too much, I’m so fucking stupid I can hardly pass math, I hate myself. And lately everyone thinks I’ve been getting better, but I’ve just been pushing it down further. I hurt people, I wasted their time. Their happiness is more important than mine, by far. So I push this down further where it kills me instead of them. Lately I feel so alone, because I know that they’re getting tired of me talking about it, I know they are. I feel so alone because all I want to do is scream and cry and yell to someone about it but I can’t because I don’t know who to talk to. I’ve run out of people. I’ve pushed everyone away. I want out. I want to leave, I never want to come back. I want to move on. I want to feel myself fall away into the darkness and I want it to all be over.

I love Laura and Greg so much. They mean everything to me. And the last time I started talking to Laura about not eating, purging, things like that, she said that if I ever started again, she’d stop talking to me. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I have no one to talk to, if I keep eating, I can keep pretending to feel okay and keep talking to Laura, or I can lose weight again. I can take myself away from here. If I start cutting again, I won’t be able to talk to her anymore either, because I will kill myself.

I love both of them more than anything, but this is too hard. I can’t do this. I’m scared as to what it would do to them, but I’m more scared that they wouldn’t even care.

If they would, I feel horrible, because the only thing I can say, is that I’m so sorry. I never meant it to be this way, I’d do anything to change it. I’m so sorry.

I don’t want them to read this, because if they do, I think they won’t talk to me. I just want to know that someone out there is hearing this.

Please don’t come on here telling me not to kill myself. It’s my decision, I just need to know that there’s someone out there who is going through the same kind of thing and can talk to me; can understand.