The first installment to the Notepad saga…. yep, that’s it.
To Whom It May Concern,
You may think of me as stupid. Ugly. Dumb for meeting my 2 best friends over the internet. Meeting the love of my life over the internet.Â Stupid for writing this, but you don’t know how I feel. Let me tell you.
Living every day is a fuckin’ chore.Â Going to school is a chore. Walking, carrying everything I need, and just being on the computer with my love is a chore. Trying to survive without him actually being here is a chore. Without the people who truly understand me. Is it such a problem, Mom? Asking for when I’m 18, can you, my brother, or someone, take me to the man who I’d give my life to save? You can obviously do it, look at the guy you met in the south part of Ohio. He was at least 400 miles away. My man is just over 250 from me. Just be glad I’m not trying to hitchhike there on my own.
I know the rules of the internet, and I don’t care. I’m not a baby anymore. I don’t need training wheels.
There’s a reason all of the food is tasting a bit weird. The knives you use? I’ve started cutting again. Yes, I know it hasn’t happened since I met my man, but now is tough times. I know I have places to rant, but sometimes, the pain can only be matched by a nice rough blade to my sides.
I’m sorry I can’t live up to your expectations, Dad. I can’t listen to you without breaking down in my mind. You ranting hurts me. You drinking kills me. You smoking shatters me. I know you’re trying t make me into the ice box heart you are when you’re sober. But if you can’t accept me being bi and (in your words) “More of a softie than I’ll ever be”, then you aren’t the Daddy I used to know.
You and mom would be disappointed in me by my new decisions to cut, to be on this site even. But I don’t care.
[my man], You don’t know how much I love you.. You remember when I broke down that one day, right? I asked if I died tomorrow, and you said it’d hurt like hell and I wouldn’t be forgotten. But would that change if I commited suicide? Do you truly love me?
To my other brother. I’m sorry I was such a dick earlier in our lives. I hated you for no reason. You’re my brother, I should love you with my whole heart. But the problem is.. It’s small.. My heart is small. And my man has it completely occupied. Sorry..
So why am I writing this? If I really did it, it would be to tell you ALL, that this shit it real. Innocent, bright people die because nobody will help us. Most of those who do don’t get it. Those who can really help eventually dump us to side, sick of our ‘crap’ and how we ‘never get better’! Suicide is not fake! It kills. It hurts us so badly. If I die, from my own demise, will you finally open your eyes? Stop saying that suicide is just a mental disease? That it’s contracted through STD’s or shit like that?! Because it’s not. People have these thoughts because life outweights ways to cope with it. If you can’t be there to actually help me instead of putting me in a hospital, will you at least let me die in peace?
I’ll admit it. I’m tired of life. I’m not tired of my love, I’m tired of life. I can kill myself if it meant getting away from my family. But I won’t. The only person who’s actually keeping me down. You all know who he is, because he’s certainly nobody else in this god forsaken state of mine… Just let me retire and pause my life in peace. Maybe when I turn 18 and get out of here, I can finally live without a suicide thought every night.
So if you find my body with my brains splattered on the wall. Or me hung on our chandelier, or my throat cut or drowned or electric shock. If you find me dead, basically. You know you killed me. I don’t mean to hurt anyone, but obviously you all, my so called ‘family’ decided to kill me.
Fuck. You. All.
~ Mr. Jays
I will repeat myself again, and probably after every one of these. This is a ‘WHAT IF I DID IT’ suicide note. I’M NOT GOING TO DO IT. THIS IS A WAY TO SEE IF THIS HELPS ME VENT. If it works, these will continue. Simple. If they don’t, don’t expect these.