I have no reason for it. No reason for the pain, guilt, or regret. No reason to complain or whine or say anything bad about my life.
My family are some of the nicest, kindest people on this planet. My friends are always there for me no matter what. I love them all so much and would do anything for them.Â I came from a wealthy home. While I was not given everything, I was given what I needed(and a little extra) and that is not something everyone can say. I’ve had a good education. I wouldn’t say I’m a genius but if I.Q. tests tell you anything I have above average intelligence. I’ve only been bullied once in elementary school but that was all(from what I know). People tell me I’m a talented musician. I play the violin, piano, and ukulele but I am also starting to learn the guitar. I probably have a good career ahead of me too. I am one of the most fortunate people in the world, yet I seem to want to leave it.
It is something I have pondered over for hours a day. Why do I want it to end? It’s a question I still haven’t been able to answer. All I know is it’s always on my mind. It has consumed my life like a black hole. It is always there, following me as I breeze through my life. My smile never reaches my eyes. When I look in the mirror I see nothing but an empty shell with vacant eyes.
Everyday is a fight for me. Should I pick up that bottle of pills? Should I just cut myself with a knife and let myself slowly lull into peace? This never ending battle is draining, but I have always counted on my family and friends to allow me to absorb some energy from them to keep on going.
I’ve tried telling my best friends what was happening, but was only half successful. I got the point across I was depressed but could not tell them to what extent. I was ashamed of myself. I let myself down and them down, I know. I still have not been able to tell my family. I don’t want anyone to worry about me. I don’t want someone to be distracted by me and my problems. It doesn’t seem fair for me to put this burden on anyone.
Now I am in college. My family and friends are all gone. I talk to them in short spurts between my classes and their classes. The generic “Hey, hows it going?” with the generic response “Fine”. That is what my friendships with these people, friendships that lasted since elementary school, have become. Our conversations are not of friends, but of acquaintances who happen to pass each other on the street and feel like they have to say hi. It is the same with my family. As my Mom goes on about what has been happening back home, my words of choice are “huh”, “wow”, “ha”, and my favorite, “k”.
I don’t know why I can’t speak with them anymore. Is it the distance? Am I purposefully trying to isolate myself? Is this my unconscious mind trying to get me to feel even more alone than I do already?
What has truly held me back from taking my life has been the guilt. The guilt of leaving my parents, these great, loving people, a body that used to be their son that they loved. The guilt of leaving my friends, the ones that have stood by me most of my life, with an empty spot in the car on vacations. I also did not want anyone to think that what I had done was someone’s fault. As I said before, no one was to blame. There is just me. Me and my mind, daydreaming about dying in the middle of class. Fantasizing about finding the perfect way to die.
To take my mind off of all of this, I had activities to keep myself busy. Either I would call my friends to hangout, read a book, or play a video game. I’m finding it near impossible trying to make friends here at college. None of them have been able to live up to my friends back home, or so I keep telling myself. Whenever there is a social event going on, I never can get the energy or motivation to go, so I am stuck in my dorm room. Shut in from the social world, just sitting on my bed browsing the web. Reading a book was the most helpful during the book, but afterwords everything would hit me twice as hard. While in the middle of a book, I could pretend I WAS the main character. It was me saving people, it was me getting the girl, it was me getting the happy ending. As I finish with the last page of a book I start to feel like my life is even worse. Nothing can compare to a happy ending in a book. Everything seems to work out and everyone has a good, happy life. I realize my life will never be that way, but I still can’t help wanting it. The video games were just something that kept my mind focused. I would sit at a computer for hours and hours playing a game and I would get off forgetting some of the thoughts that were once swimming in my brain.
I’m in college with no friends and no prospects of gaining any. I’ve lost all interest in books. I left my gaming laptop at home and I am not able to play games on this laptop. I cannot find anyone to draw energy from to keep the demons at bay. Any day now they will come crashing through the doors and release the floodgates.
I’m trying. I keep on thinking of everyone I love. Everyone who has meant so much to me. Everyone who has given me something. But it just doesn’t seem to be enough. I am a sinking ship with no lifeboats.
I hope to one day discover the unknown part of me that makes me feel this way, but I fear I may not live long enough to do so. I am sorry for writing so much, but when I started I could no stop. Thank you for reading this. I hope I can come back to this with news of how I may of lost some battles but I won the war and share how I did it to help others. Please do not take this post as another sign that it is hopeless for you. If you are going to take anything away from this, try to find the source of the demons to try and stop the flow. I’m still searching.
/end cheesy story