The one thing that has kept me going for the longest time has been schoolwork. I am a senior in college, graduating in May and wondering what will help me survive after that. I’m good at schoolwork. I’m smart. Not to sound arrogant, but I know what to do to get good grades, and I love to learn. When everything else is fucked up, as it often is, knowing that I can get something right is what keeps me alive. Now, it’s nearly over, and in all that handwork and all that knowledge gathering, I have no career prospects. Nothing that I’m particularly good at. Nothing that I could use to make a difference in the world. Don’t get me wrong, I’m quite thankful for the opportunity to get an awesome education, and I know there are so many who don’t have all the tools that I have to succeed in the world. But what good are the tools if the person meant to use them is too fucked up?
I don’t deserve all that I have. I deserve to feel so worthless and empty. I deserve the endless pain. I deserve to be punished. I don’t really want to die. I just want to be someone else. Someone worth all that she has. Someone who has the ability to help others instead of being downright selfish and helpless herself. I can’t stop thinking. I can’t concentrate on my work, haven’t been able to for weeks. I know what needs done, but I can’t shake the feeling that I should probably be planning my suicide. It’s the only option at this point. Can’t shake the realization that I’m beyond help. Forever in darkness. And who the fuck cares anyhow? There are maybe two people at this college who would give a fuck if I died–my roommate and my counselor. I try so hard, and still, no one cares. And no one at home has a clue that I’ve struggled with depression, self-injury, suicide…for years, and nobody knows. They don’t know I’ve been in counseling for two years. They would be so confused and pissed off if I died. But I don’t know that they’d miss me. They don’t really know me. They’d miss the girl on the pedestal. The one I can’t live up to. The one I can’t go home and be, because I was never her. Better to die now before they realize who I really am.
No one fucking cares, and it scares me that I don’t think I do either.