Living really takes it out of me. Just breathing, surviving another day. It requires so much effort.
Being alive is honestly the last thing that I want. I absolutely hate myself. I hate this world too. I can’t look at myself in the mirror, and I don’t want to leave the house. I don’t have any talents and I am not attending school at the moment because I don’t have the energy (to deal with people’s shit and I don’t see the point in doing work because I am unable to take that work further due to my lack of skill and talent). I practise the things that used to ease my mind in the past, hoping for the same result but to no avail. I practise so much, and I never get any better. I often wonder what it must be like to be good at something, to fully enjoy something and to want to cling to life. There isn’t really much I can or want to do in this world.
It is quite an ugly place and certainly not a place I want to be in. I have never had a single true friend. My life has been made up of disappointments, betrayals and back-stabbers. Guess that’s where I get my extreme trust issues from.
I’m used to people using me as a stepping stone and then discarding me, it barely bothers me because I have learnt not to get attached, but at times, I do feel alone.
Everytime something hurts me, I am unable to recover. They just dig deeper and deeper into me, gourging out my insides and leaving me as a shell. I am unable to rebuild myself. Perhaps I’m weak, perhaps I’m just tired. It doesn’t matter though, nothing ever does to me.
I do not care what happens in this life. I have no goals, dreams or motivation. My only wish is to die. I have always felt like this and wrote my first suicide note when I was 6/7 years old.
I don’t remember what happiness feels like. I am not sure I have properly experienced it. Constantly, I feel empty, numb, emotionless. A sociopath you might say. Though, I do feel hate, anger and sadness.
My family wants me alive and try to keep me that way. They don’t want me to suffer. They don’t understand that forcing me to stay in this world is the thing making me suffer .
I have attempted suicide countless times, self-harm weekly and barely eat, all in hopes of leaving this world and destroying this hateful body.
Suicide may seem selfish but it is the only thing that I have ever wanted and my whole life has been living for others. Not willingly but being forced to. Because I didn’t want to prove the fact that I’m a failure, a disappointment and an expense.
But eventually, you get tired of giving. You can’t pour from an empty cup. You need to refill your glass before you can pour into other people’s.
But there is nothing to refill my glass. Nothing that I enjoy, or find a piece of hope in. There is nothing anchoring me in this world, making me want to stay.
And to be honest…I would rather have it that way. I want no part in this horrible, pitiful, ugly world with monsters wearing human skins and friendly faces.
One day (Hopefully very soon), I will be successful in taking my life and can leave this living hell.