If this ever crops up on my social media I’m sorry. It means that I’ve truly become nothing but a failure, that I’ve totally failed to keep myself alive for another day.
I’m sorry. I shouldn’t do this. My life isn’t terrible, it never really was. Compared to the thousands of suffering humans who drag themselves awake each day and somehow smile all the while, my life is great. I just, can’t anymore. I can’t seek help, it’s too late, I failed. I couldn’t help myself, so who could.
My life started out great, my mother was a well earning nurse, I had friends, a dog, and my family around all the time, literally, several family members lived with me. However, it all started to gradually decline, I can’t remember exactly when, maybe it was when my mother and cousin screamed at each other for an hour, maybe it was when my dog died, maybe it was when my grandmother died. Likely, it was the third, because after that, everything began to unravel.
You see, my grandfather began working once more shortly after my grandmother’s death and was rather inflexible with his work. So, my mother had to work the graveyard shift as a nurse, just so that she could drive me to my school all the way across town. I had transferred because my first grade teacher was terrible, but it didn’t really effect me at all, but back to the main point. My mother got jumped one day, because she had finally found a good job as a nurse at the prison, and her arthritis crept back in. She broke down. Our bourgeois 1950’s life was flip turned upside down.
We moved under the duress of foreclosure to an apartment a bit more than a mile away from my school. The only drawback was that we couldn’t live there. We could only actually be a semi-quiet family between the hours of 1 PM and 7 PM or we would get yelled at by the landlord, and if we dared to move too loudly during the six hours of life we would once more get chewed out. It was in this apartment that things really took a sharp turn.
It was summer, I had just gone and gotten a stuffed leopard at a chain store. My grandfather wanted to get ice cream and asked my mother for the keys to the pick up truck. She said no, it could wait until after dinner, so he decided to take his pink raspberry sparkle scooter to get it. He didn’t wear a helmet. He crashed. He was 80. He lived, albeit, had a subdurel hematoma, but was fine. The landlord and my mother later had a large argument that resulted in our unlawful eviction. My mother and grandfather argued. They went their separate ways, my mother and I lived with my aunt, my grandfather went into elderly housing.
In sixth grade my mother threatened an insurance provider that she would kill herself unless she got her insurance. She was put into a mental hospital over three hours away in Boston. They said she would be there for three days. I missed school for almost two weeks while she was in there. The only person who seemed to care was my third grade teacher who had been moved to being a fifth grade teacher. The hospital my mother was in was more like a drug rehab center, there were only four people there with legitimate mental disorders, and only one of the countless drug addicts wanted to get clean. My mother tried to apply for disability but they refused. She tried to get out early but they threatened to hold her for three months.
My mother became a cab driver and then a nurse once more. We got a nice apartment. I began playing hooky and nearly dropped out of seventh grade. My grandfather died of mesothelioma, I knew he had cancer, but nobody believed me. Nobody ever believes me.I hadn’t seen him for over a month before he died, I regret that. The night that he did die, my mother was going to take me to see him, but with the state he was in, she didn’t want me to see him like that.
My mother broke down shortly after my grandfather’s death. His insurance was fake and she felt like everyone was ganging up on her. She told her boss to, and I quote, “Go fuck herself”. She was unemployed and trying to get some help. We lost power for seventy three hours in the spring. Our long time cat died in May of a stroke. We were evicted, lawfully this time, in August.
At this time my cousin allowed me and my new dog to stay with him and his family, but refused my mother because she was “abusive”. I know my mother and she is most certainly not abusive, she is a great person, probably one of the kindest and most intelligent women I have ever known. But she is mentally fragile, what with severe bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, clinical depression, social anxiety, and PTSD. However, I only stayed there for less than a week, as my mother needed me to be able to get into a shelter. So we left our dog with my cousin temporarily.
We had hit rock bottom. Sure the shelter was nice, it was laid out like an apartment, but it was a fish bowl. We almost lost our dog, as he scared my cousin’s child (even though the dog is seven pounds soaking wet). We gave him to the niece of a colleague of my aunt who was misinformed as to the fact that she would be merely looking after the dog instead of keeping him. I was having a good time in my new school. My mother finally got her social security disability. We got the dog back. Things were looking up for us, and then…bureaucracy bit us in the ass.
My mother was looking for apartments, some were cheap and nice and had utilities, but for some reason the idiots running the shelter wouldn’t fill out the paperwork. They wanted us to live in a slum. Well, that’s where we ended up, a slum in the worst part of our town. Our car broke down in my ninth grade year so I had to transfer back to the school I had almost dropped out of in seventh grade.
Now that you know about what happened to me, you would probably like to know why I am committing this act. I’m sorry. It’s because, I feel as though I have nothing to offer this world, because I realize that my only personality is my brain, and even that’s subpar. I hate everything about myself and haven’t felt actual happiness since I was eight. I’m sorry, but I feel like a failure to everything and everyone. I can’t do anything right. People only view me as highly as my intelligence and I hate that. I don’t even feel like a person anymore. In fact I don’t feel anything anymore. I just want it to stop.
I’m sorry that I can’t do anything right. Even something as menial as staying alive.
I suppose I should say something to the people that this will show up to.
Mom- Oh God. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. You were always there for me. You always tried to understand, and I’m just so sorry that I couldn’t be a better child for you. I know that you say that I’m your angel, but I’m 90% sure that you’re biased, because I am just a shit person. Please don’t hurt yourself, I know, hypocritical, right, but please, I can’t bear the thought that you might get hurt. I want you to be safe, because, even though it might not seem that way, I really love you, I’m just a cowardly failure.
Auntie K and Uncle D- I love both of you, and while I might not agree with you on the ideological front, I really love you guys because you were both always there for me and mom. I’m sorry for everything I’ve said or done that hurt you. I’m so so sorry.
Auntie A-I haven’t spent a lot of time with you, and I deeply regret that. I love you so much and I am just so remorseful for not having talked to you more. I’m sorry.
Cousins- I really hate lumping all of you together, seeing as how there are so many of you, but I just can’t bring myself to subject any of you to more than you have to of my worthless rambling. But you all helped form my personality and ideals, and I am so grateful for that, but I’m just too far gone and I’m sorry.
To be honest, if you are not mentioned here I will probably place your message in a personal message and I cannot overstate how sorry I am that I am resorting to this. God I am such a failure, it’s a wonder why I haven’t done this sooner.
I’ve failed. I couldn’t help myself and now I’m resorting to this. I am a failure. I’m worthless and pathetic. I am a terrible human being and I’ve failed. I wish I had sought some help, but I just didn’t want anyone to worry, I didn’t want anyone to think lesser of me. I didn’t want you all to know what a failure I am.
Fuck. Goddammit, I’m a coward and I understand that you think that I’m an idiot. That I’m pathetic. That I can’t do anything right. You’re right, guess the smoke had to fade one day.
I’m sorry,
Rose
4 comments
Hi Rose,
I don’t think you’re pathetic. Or a coward. Or anything else. Please give yourself a break. You’ve had one hell of a difficult life. Why not take a few deep breaths and maybe we can figure something out…what’s one more day?
Want to be friends? I can help you.
My kik is Kalmahavak
My email is andrewholstein1@gmail.com
I want to help you 🙂 and let’s be friends!
I’m sorry Rose because it seems that you’ve been through a lot. I agree with Photographyismylife to give yourself a break because I believe you’re more than what you see yourself as.
I hope you stick around and that things will hopefully improve. I wish you well.
I don’t quite understand why you want to off yourself? The only clue to your age is that you’re in high school still? Why not try to study your ass off, get into a top school and get a good job? Or start a business? Money it sounds like would fix a lot of your problems.