Trapped (or not)

Hi everyone.

This is my first time posting here—I just wanted… needed… a place to just write so if you happen to be reading this please bear with me.

First thing’s first I completely despise myself. For many reasons. And I’m pretty sure I should be anyways, because I am such an ungrateful, unappreciative, weak, utterly selfish, immature, pathetic organism. There are a lot more adjectives but these are the ones that should be put more emphasis on.

(I just want to add in—kindly please before you start lecturing me I want you to know, that I know; I’m lecturing myself about everything already, so this is actually quite hard to write out.)

A brief backstory to this all: I was born in the states. At 10, our whole family moved to my parents’ country where they were born in. Everything was fine, then. I handled everything so well. I did amazingly well in school; I got top 10 in our class despite the major language and cultural differences. I impressed everyone. Our whole family: aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, were all together. It was pretty much all perfect.

But of course life is never perfect and neither as hell am I.

It was in middle school, or junior high school as they say here… things started going downhill. Around 8th grade I started self-harming because of my grades. Of course no one knows, and I didn’t do much but a couple of cuts that were barely deeper than a scratch, because things weren’t even that bad… I hadn’t even gone below 70 yet. And I was already unable to handle things just in 8th grade. The only question is and was how pathetic is that?

It’s the whole education system here. It is so utterly dead and a slap to the face. Especially now I’m in high school— the only thing that matters is the numbers printed on your papers. They force-feed you with books, they’ll mold and bend you until you’re the same as everyone else. They don’t believe in anything but that you should only swallow it all, get a good university to slap onto your forehead; that’s all your life is supposed to be.

“Is that all life is supposed to be?”

“You are only a student, that’s the only thing a student needs to do.”

“I feel like it’s so much; I can’t handle it.”

“We were all like this in the past— even worse and we didn’t complain. You have it much better already.”

I have it much better already… I do have everything much better already… but I’m so weak and I can’t handle it all, it’s slowly continuing to drag me into an endless pit of darkness. My grades are behind in class—I am in a better class in our grade but I don’t deserve to be here. Things just seem to get harder as I take them more seriously. I don’t understand. I don’t understand why I can’t do anything. I don’t understand why I’m suffocating. I don’t understand why I’m so pathetic and weak; why I’m the runt. I don’t understand why my parents don’t take my words of distress— they are so disappointed in me. I know they are.

So I’ve been desperately wanting to move back to the states. It’s just Utopia there compared to here. I’ve stated that to my parents because I for sure cannot handle 2 more years of everything anymore. My time is clearly up here and things are just gonna be tougher as we have to worry about college… I’m for sure going to college in the states anyways, so none of the ‘preparation’ done here would do any good for me.

And I don’t know, I’m so desperate I just turn selfish. Neither my mom nor my dad want to move. My brother vocally objects it. My dad can’t find a job there, either. My bad grades now will be transferred there and it’ll ruin everything. If we move our family will probably have to split. But I just want to go back and I just need out. There’s no life here.

It’s just that lately that hope— that hope of leaving that has been keeping me living for so long seemed to pretty much turn into nothing, and for once I feel so hopeless and frightened, because I don’t know what I’m gonna do and I’m scared of what I just might do…

Now I hate myself for this; my teacher even wrote “Can you bear tearing your mother and father apart?” I ask myself that so much and it makes me so sick that I am still desperately clinging onto the idea of moving back. I hate that I actually have the guts to say that I’m in pain; I have so many luxuries, my parents let me play guitar, go to concerts. My parents are always around when some peoples’ are working 24/7. Guilt and worthlessness claws at me whenever I feel negative. I try talking to a close friend but I never feel better because of that. I’m trapped.

Really, the idea of suicide just haunts me every now and then. And that’s what beats me up the most. It’s a way out… my hopes and dreams don’t mean much anymore now… but the one thing is that I can’t imagine what my brother, my parents, my friend would be like. Would feel. Would think. I know it won’t matter when I’m dead…

It so dumb to still cling onto the smallest string of hope when it’s just nothing…