Suicide. That thing that describes the action that people want to take upon themselves, to end ones life. To get away from there problems, there thoughts, there own personal hell that they created. This action has crossed my mind many times. I’ve recently been diagnosed with chrons disease, and the physical and mental torture that comes with that is too much. I had suicidal thoughts before this, and when added its becoming a struggle. 6 months before i went to Dr.s to get it checked out i would experience extreme stomach area pain, everyday, all day. When they diagnosed me with it they prescribed medication. 6 pills a day, these giant capsules that reminded me of horsepills. Unfortunately the pain increased, i would wake up in the middle of the night in pain, not daring to move for fear that it would become worse. I’ll cry and beg for someone, whatever god that’s out there, to end my life. The pain would get so bad during the day that i would stop and double over, working through the pain. When i told the Dr. about this he put me on steroids, 8 a day on top of my 6. Plus my 2 iron pills since chrons made me anemic. Oh those damn steroids fucked me up. It increased my pain yet again. By now you think i would be use to it, but this pain robbed me of my breath. When it would happen at school it was so damn difficult to hide it in front of my friends, the steroids made it impossible. Teachers would embarrassingly stop there teaching to ask if i was ok, if i needed anything. It feels like I’m dieing slowly, really. It scares me how much pain this brings. Oh god it hurts. I filled up my toilet bowl with blood for the first time a month ago too. That hurt SSSOOO bad, that scared me too. I had to go to the E.R. My mom cries in the night for me, i can hear her begging God to give it to her instead, to save her baby from all this pain. I’m making my mom cry too. I also had a reaction to the steroids, it caused acne’s along my neck, back, shoulders, and upper chest. You can imagine that teenage me already had low self esteem, so this just tipped me over. I can’t even look in the mirror. I look so fuckin ugly now. My friends think im the prettiest person, my boyfriend thinks im gorgeous, he even says he cant believe im so perfect. The only person I have to convince is myself and obviously i don’t think very much of myself so what everyone else says doesn’t affect me. I’ve thought about cutting myself, but that will leave scars that people will notice. I have little kids and teenagers who look up to me. I can’t be weak. Suicide. What would they do if that person they looked up to, who they thought was so strong killed herself because it was too much for her? I cant be selfish. How i wish i was though. Theirs so much more that i go through that i wont bother telling you about, since I’ve wrote so much already. I don’t complain to anyone about this, why should i? Its not there burden, and secondly there’s always someone out there who has it worse. I keep this in mind constantly. So I’m alone in this confusing, dark place. I don’t want to be alone. Why has no one noticed? Why does no one see? I’m not going to tell them, so maybe its my own fault so i really shouldn’t complain. Whenever i get that feeling in my chest like an octopus in the center, wrapping its tentacles around my whole torso. A black blob that’s crushing me. Its dragging me down. I believe this is my “depressed” feelings. It makes you want to go in a corner, bundle your arms around you, somewhere no one can find you, anywhere you can be alone, isolated, blasting your music. You want to explode, to send all that energy inside somewhere but you cant. You just keep it there, smoldering. Its killing you. This is the feeling that makes suicide possible. All these thoughts, all these things that go against me, trying to push me over that edge. My responsibilities wont let me be pushed.