Just Let Me Disappear

(written about 6 months ago)

I don’t want to exist anymore. It’s not that I would ever kill myself because I would NEVER. I just want to cease to exist. I hate the word suicide and term “commit suicide” because it’s a sin and I’m a sucker for pleasing others and I can’t inflict harm on myself. I’m too much of a baby. I also wouldn’t want to cause emotional damage to my family or friends. I absolutely hate to disappoint people. It’s my least favorite thing to do but sometimes I just wish I could throw everything out the window and just take a breather and not worry about anything. I wish I could just stop going to school. I wish I could just be at home with my family and just be there with them and just be. I know that sounds lazy but that’s not how I want it to sound. I would totally do that if I didn’t think that I was going to disappoint people by doing it.

In fact, I did track freshman and sophomore year of high school because that’s what my parents did in high school they were both great athletes and won all kinds of awards and medals. I wanted to do that. I wanted to be the daughter of two great athletes that went on and followed in the footprints of her parents. I even did hurdles because I thought it would make my mom, a great hurdler, proud that her daughter was running hurdles like she was but the fact of the matter was that I sucked at it. I was ALWAYS dead last no matter what. Did that make me feel good? No. Did that mean I was going to stop doing it? No. Because I wanted her to be proud of me. I attempted high jump because my dad was amazing at it. I completely sucked at that. Did that mean I was going to stop doing it? No. Because I wanted him to be proud of me. Only after getting hurt and realizing that I didn’t want to feel pain like that anymore, did I tell my coaches that I would not participate in those events. So I attempted long jump. Heck, I was actually good at this for once. I beat a varsity girl on our team’s farthest jump, on my first ever. I even lettered and made varsity because of long jump. But the next year rolled around and I decided not to go out for track after talking to my parents about it and making sure they would back me up. I told them I just didn’t want to injury my knees or my shins anymore than I had and that was part of it. A small part it might have been but it wasn’t a lie, just not the whole truth. The biggest part was that I figured if I didn’t go out for Track, I couldn’t suck. I couldn’t be kicked off varsity, I couldn’t be last in anymore relays, events, or races. It felt good not to be last anymore. But I felt like I was disappointing people still. I felt like my parents wanted me to go out for track, they just weren’t telling me. I felt like I had broken their hearts because I didn’t go out. I felt awful.

I began to compare myself to my cousin who I love always and forever because she is my best friend. I began thinking, look at her. She’s so amazing. She can do anything. She can do pole vault, she can get first in a race, she plays volleyball, she’s amazing. I truly do believe that to this day. After all, she got a scholarship because of it. My parents have to pay for my college tuition. I’m so proud of her for that so don’t you dare think otherwise. While I went off an had fun at theater, she was out earning medals and making newspapers and winning all these different things. I thought I had truly let my parents down. They tell me I didn’t but I still feel like I did and it didn’t help that I had to see my ex-coach every day in the hall and in class Junior year. It felt like he was giving me attitude and being hostile towards me because I didn’t go out for his track team. So instead I decided, maybe I’ll try cross country. That again didn’t work and I quit before the first track meet. Heck, I quit before official practices. After that I felt like a quitter. It didn’t help that one of my best guy friends called me out on it and would continue to pester me about it even through Senior year. The only thing I didn’t quit was Theater. Theater was awesome but in the end, I didn’t get the praise I was looking for from my parents. Sure they supported me but I didn’t feel like they did as much as when I completely sucked at track. My mom would come to as many meets as she could, my dad made it to an invite in which I for some reason I competed at. They told me, “Good job.” “You did your best and that’s all we could ask for.” even when I sucked so bad I would have kicked myself for taking that place. As for theater, I didn’t feel like I got the same support. They probably gave me plenty and I’m probably over reacting but I felt like they weren’t impressed with the sets that I had fun helping to paint and put together.

I also compared myself to my other cousin who is about the same age. He also did sports and had amazing grades because he got a scholarship as well. “I’m the runt of the pack.” “I’m the loser in this relationship.” I felt awful in high school because he was getting good grades and doing sports, my other cousin was doing awesome in sports and was probably getting good grades, and then there was me. I was getting average. Average. Average. Average. No matter how hard I tried. Average. I strived for A’s and that didn’t happen. I didn’t receive a scholarship like they did and I didn’t do sports. I was just an average high schooler.

During my junior year I started getting into hockey and that was the best thing ever. The Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup the year I really started watching them and it was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. Towards the end of my senior year, I began playing street hockey with some people who have since, become great friends. Hockey is my jam. I still don’t know what my parents think of my playing it though.

I’ve had thoughts of not wanting to exist anymore before but I had to write it down this time because I couldn’t study. It’s now an hour later and buckets of tears and I’m still not done with how I feel. I don’t want to die. The sound of that freaks me out because then people might cry over me. I just want to cease to exist. Cease to be remembered. Cease to be. If people don’t remember me, they can’t be disappointed. If I cease to be instead of die, they can’t be sad over me.

I’ve asked and told myself countless times, “Am I depressed?” “I can’t be because I have an amazing life and I have no reason to be.” “I have an amazing family, friends who I love, I get plenty of food, I get things that I want but don’t need so why do I feel like this?” “I can’t be suicidal because I would never follow through.”

I know that I’m not alone because I have plenty of friends and family who are there for me but I don’t want to bother them with my feelings. I don’t want to seem weak. I don’t want to seem like the runt. I’m more than willing to help others when they feel down but I hate asking others for help when I feel like crap. When I do get enough muster to ask my cousin, bless her heart, I feel like I’m bothering her because she has better things to be doing. She has her own problems and I should be helping her with her problems instead of the other way around. I feel alone even though I’m nowhere near it.

I don’t feel like this because I don’t have a “romantic relationship”. I don’t need a boyfriend right now, especially with the way I feel. Sure sometimes it would be nice. Heck it would be nice but that’s not what this is about. It’s not for lack of chances. I’ve been asked on dates and turned them down because I don’t think I could handle it. Sometimes I get sad that I don’t have a “boyfriend” but in all honesty, it’s my fault. Recently the people who have asked me don’t interest me and I won’t give them a chance because I don’t want to fall for them and get my heart messed up. I find that people I end up liking, don’t end up liking me back. Fine. Whatever. I have a great family and friends who I love. I don’t need another person that I wouldn’t talk to about these things.

I googled ‘not wanting to exist anymore’ to see if other have ever felt this way in hope that it wasn’t just me. I found a post that embodied everything I was thinking. As if I had written it and forgotten that I did. But I know it wasn’t me.

“By feeling miserable an alone on a near constant basis, it makes it easier for me to deal with people. I’m untouchable to anything people say to me or behind my back, as I simply don’t care. Because no amount of dislike from others can be equal to my dislike for myself. In that way, my sadness keeps me safe.

If I let myself truly care about things, I’m likely to get hurt. I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t want my heart broken. So perhaps that’s why I never let people get too close to me. I’m scared and protecting myself. But why?

Why am I so scared? What am I so afraid of? No one’s really hurt me properly in the past, so it’s not like I’m scarred by memories or anything. Why do I feel this way? None of it even makes sense. I have the perfect life, perfect family, perfect everything, so why do I still want to disappear?

Like I’ve said many times already, I don’t want to kill myself, as such. I don’t want anyone to have to find me dead. I don’t want to be remembered as the teenager who let no one in, then ruined the life of her family by killing herself. I don’t want to die at all really. What I want is for everything to end. There’s a difference. I want things to be over, I don’t want to be dead.

It’s just that if I suddenly got it by a car and lost my life, I wouldn’t be too upset. Maybe I do actually want to die, I just don’t want to be the one to do it. I can’t be the one to do it. I don’t want to screw things up for my family or anyone else. Because if I killed myself, they’d blame themselves. And I don’t want them to. Because it’s not their fault. I’m a screwed up person, but they brought me up beautifully. I had an unbelievably happy childhood, both of my parents make me smile and have always made me feel so loved. It’s not their fault I’m like this, I’m screwed up. Because like I said earlier, I must be broken in some way, because in theory, every thing’s great in my life.

All I want is to go to sleep and never wake up. I don’t want to dream. I want to close my eyes at night for good, and for them to stay shut.

I want to disappear.”   

Everything she said is exactly how I feel. You might be thinking, “But you told us a huge long story about how you don’t think your parents supported you.”

NO. THAT IS NOT IT AT ALL. I know they support me and love me and would do anything for me because that’s them. I was told that when I was little, like toddler size or barely older, we were in the mountains and I was with my grandma at some trail head parking lot. My parents were somewhere else and my grandma told me that we would need to walk back or something as our camp wasn’t too far. Evidently I told her No because I knew that my dad would be coming to get me. I was told that she kept insisting that he wouldn’t but I kept saying “My dad will come for me.” and sure enough, he came around the corner in a vehicle to pick us up.

I still have that love and trust for my family. I know that they would do anything for me but sometimes I get so myself and I think, “I’m disappointing them.”

This is not some story about how I was treated wrongly, because it’s not. I have been treated the best all my life by a loving family. I have amazing friends. But like the other girl said, if I were to fall asleep and never wake up, that would be perfectly fine with me. I’m not going to make that happen because I couldn’t do that to my family. I couldn’t do that to my friends and I couldn’t do that to myself. Sometimes I think that these thoughts could be cured with a hug from a loved one but I’d probably start crying and then I’d have no way of telling them how I feel and it making sense.

This isn’t the only problem though. I legit wonder if my friends even like me. I feel like I annoy most of them without trying and it’s awful.

I just want to cease to exist. I don’t want to bother anyone.

I want to disappear.