I want to die but I can’t. I still have people that need me to make money, too many people that need me to live. I’m not selfish enough to leave them with nothing. I don’t want them to suffer and die with me. I just want to die alone. So I have to live for them but it’s only the hollow shell of a life I’ve never really lived.
I’m still very young. I know this. At the age of 21 I should not be this hateful, this cynical, this forlorn, this lonely. But I am. I suppose I’ve always been unhappy. I’ve always been depressed. Ever since I was a child, I’ve been constantly beat into the ground at every turn. You’re ugly. You’re not smart enough. You’re lazy. You’re annoying. My parents. My siblings. My friends. Strangers. Teachers. People. They all have made sure to instill in me this deep seeded agony of self hatred.
There is too much weight on my shoulders. The weight of supporting so many other people is so heavy it makes my bones crack under the pressure. My mother, my sister, my brother, a woman that is a friend to our family, her autistic eight year old son, and three dogs. I carry all of their weight with me. They’re why I can’t die. They need the money I make and this is why I carry on.
I am in love. I think that’s the hardest part of living for me. I love a man that can’t love me. I’m not good enough for him as it is but I still desire him. I just want to be by his side. I use to tell myself it would be enough just to know him and love him quietly but its become too much to bear. Its been two years now. Time has turned the beautiful light of hope he once was into an engulfing flame that seers my flesh and leaves me screaming.
So I want to die. I REALLY want to die. But I can’t. There’s too much to do. I think about it often. If only I were crueler. If that were so than I’d be free to die without worry. But I’m not so I’m forced to live so others can. I wish someone would kill me so I didn’t have to worry anymore. I wish I could just die already.
Someone please help me.