Hope I can do it.

I’m tired. I have several severe mental disorders, and the severe insomnia doesn’t help. Ever since I was a small child, I’ve been miserable. I always feel ill. Every day my head aches horribly, and I’m constantly nauseous.

I’m a teenager, and I dress in black most of the time, so people assume that I’m a bad kid. I’m not goth or emo, I just like black for aesthetic purposes– but I’ve always been told “Go cry, emo kid.” Or “Why don’t you go kill yourself/cut yourself?” Ever since I was eight, I’ve cut myself. When I started, I didn’t even know that was a thing other people did too.

Adults assume I’m shoplifting when I have my hands in my pockets in a store. They assume I do drugs. People tell me I’m a freak because I dress fairly androgynously, and they call me a dyke because I like other girls. I live in a very intolerant neighborhood.  I’ve always been told I’m going to hell because I’m not religious. And just to add another element, people call me and my family “the godless Japs.” I read a lot, and people ridicule me for it.

In middle school, I was beaten every day by other kids and the teachers didn’t do anything. Every psychologist I’ve ever seen has been an unprofessional idiot who made me feel worse and worse and just wanted to pacify me with drugs. Right now I’m on three medications, and my parents manage the dosages. I’m very underweight, and the doctors don’t take that into account, so the dosages are too much for my body to handle and I have horrible side effects.

I’m tormented by nightmares. When I was twelve, a group of much older teenagers held me down and forced me to perform fellatio on each of them.  It took over an hour and a half because there were so many of them. My best friend shot himself, and my cousin jumped off a building but survived and is now completely paralyzed. My mother says I should have been aborted, and she always reacts viciously to my father when he tries to protect me.

I used to have a group of friends I loved more than anything in the world, but now none of them will look at me or even talk to me. They’re not intentionally trying to be cruel, I’m just not part of the group anymore. It’s like they just lost interest and I faded into the background. I wanted to be a singer or an artist or a writer or an anthropologist, but now I just want to be dead. I cry every day, and people just walk past me. When I have my panic attacks, people laugh and make a game out of seeing how they can make the attack last longer.

I used to get straight A grades, but now I’m too depressed to work properly. My father lost his job and we’re running out of money. The only teacher in my new school who cared about me retired.

For years, I’ve been desperate, but I was going to try and stick it out to see if things get better. However, something made me snap recently. My mother is an alcoholic, although she’s never abused me when drunk. She had been drinking heavily that night, and I accidentally dropped a dish and broke it. She freaked out and took the stuffed animal I’ve loved since I was tiny and poured alcohol on it and set it on fire. Later, she broke down in tears and begged for my forgiveness, but I can’t forgive her anymore. The final stray was that we got a kitten a while ago that I adored, and she got hit by a car this week.

I can’t do this anymore. We don’t have a gun, and I know overdoses are not always successful. I’m thinking of hanging myself or jumping from a very, very high place. I just wanted to put my story somewhere out there so there is some record, however unimportant, that I ever existed.