Loud Tired White Walls

Somedays I just lay in my bed staring at the walls in silence. I get so busy in letting my thoughts run that an hour will casually slip by, just like that. Sometimes two.
Staring at these white walls.
Not listening to music, not sleeping, not on my laptop, not even moving a twitch. I just let myself breathe in silence.
And I wonder adding up all those hours, adding into days, weeks of endless uselessness of nothing when I go to meet God will he damn me for these days of wasting my “precious” life he gave? The big man will ask me, why didnt you travel like you wanted? Why didnt you ever become a famous artist like you craved? Join the Navy? Save people, the childish dream you always dreamed and now you cant even save yourself from wasting these damn days. Why not invent something brilliant, be proof how amazing the human race is, somehow join the history books, your not dumb. So why not?
And then I will have too many replys on the brim of my lips, I wouldn’t know which to say first. I would probably just stand in silence. Waste my heaven away too.
I just feel useless, course when I start thinking these thoughts after wasting those hours. I jump up and put myself to work, and it makes me proud and happy no matter if im just making tacos at Taco Bell. Its something ive done, a mark only I have made. Lost and useless in the abyss of time. This cycle made me quite the workaholic at my age.
But in life Im harshly learning there is no happy endings, theres just an ending to the chapter and we go onto the next facing some new evil and the end of the book is always death. Defeat. The evil that always lurks deep within, buried. The worst possible enemy anyone can have. Yourself.
Myself, and these white walls.
So ill be back white walls, back again to share my thoughts saying hello to God even thought he doesnt seem to hear me.
Im trying to be lighthearted and have more fun in life, but damn it gets so overwhelming all alone…
My Grandpa died May 31, 2013 and June the month following was the worst month of my life and the month I committed suicide. I took 380 mgs of Ritalin. The thing is before anyone judges. im not typically a suicidal person, im a very logical, mature, repsoncible person, thats what every adult says whom i let in my mind. But I felt very close to my Papa (grandpa) he always cared and looked after me unlike my parents. I didnt commit suicide because of him dying but rather. Him dying changed the way I looked at life. My mind. My structure. The very being of who i am, nobody could fix that, life became pointless and I couldnt endure that any longer. It was the most pain I felt in my life but instead of dying I endured a heart attack without my parents even finding out about the act along with heart problems that still effects my life today. I can feel it beat out of control sometimes and my chest becomes painful..Part of the reason I never seeked help was also because I was afraid i would look like i was seeking attenchin, which i wasnt, hopefully thats obvious.
But about under a month ago my parents found a note i wrote for my teacher whom I trust not to tell others, I wrote her it as an assignment the 2nd day of school. Who I told about that Incident because I needed to let it out, I needed help, I was afraid, terrified. Of me. My screaming loud tired thoughts on the brim of my lips.
She finds out her kid committed suicide and the first thing my Mom says is “I cant handle these kids anymore” Doesnt look at me and walks away?! And to top it off anytime you get mad about me not putting my dishes in the dishwasher or any other silly thing you blow up out of proportion, you now throw my suicide incident in my face for power?!
Congratulations Mom. You dont have to handle me anymore.
Hello white walls, im back again.