They really do. They hurt so much that sometimes I really wish I could be all alone in this world. I wish I had no family or friends, that I could live entirely on my own. And sometimes I envision a future where that’s how I really live. Phone calls to my parents, occasionally, gifts mailed out during the holidays to some of my relatives, but nothing more than those few interactions. Nothing face-to-face or substantial. The only downside to this grand future is that I am inherently extroverted, and isolation feeds my depression and anxiety and ultimately makes me feel worse. I need people to feel happy, but the price for that happiness is equal portions of disappointment, anger, sadness, and anxiety.
My family is very broken, and I think it is so sad how cliched that statement has become. A lot of people have broken homes and families, and the holiday season is the worst. It was this time two years ago that I was hospitalized after my self-harming and intense suicidal ideation were “discovered” (a former friend of mine told the therapist at school). I really thought I was going to die by the end of the year because I hated my home so much. I hated living with my sham of a family. I hated deciding which side of the family to celebrate Christmas and New Years with. I hated myself for my slipping grades and inability to get into an Ivy League university. I hated fickle friends. I hated the fact that my dog was dying. I thought I would never feel as awful as I did that December, but this year is really taking the cake.
I never thought my fractured, hateful family could become even worse. I never thought my best friend would just stop caring. I never thought my own brother would come to resent me. I never thought my grades would slip so much. I never thought I would repeat failures. I never thought I would be so lost.
My future looks like a black hole.
I promised I wouldn’t kill myself during the holidays. That would just be cruel for those I leave behind. But the end of the year is only two days away, and I figure any time after that is fair game. I should really kill myself before I have to pay for classes, which is January 12th. It would be a waste of money to die during classes; my mom certainly wouldn’t get a refund.