For the last week I’ve intentionally not reached out to anyone to see who actually cared. Nobody called, nobody texted, not even my parents. I sit in my room all day. I don’t eat, the day is over in an instant it seems. I can’t talk to anyone so now I have conversations with myself sometimes without realising. I savour any bit of human interaction I have, constantly replaying it in my head, picturing it, repeating what I said in those conversations word-for-word with the same mannerisms and expressions to distract myself from the loneliness. Every day I see people I used to know going out, enjoying life, making friends, partying, just being happy and even though I want to be part of it so badly I feel like I don’t deserve to be in those spaces.

My parents are sick of hearing me open up about it – I can tell it exhausts them. No one actually cares, I’m just a burden.

People use me. People ridicule me to my face and behind my back. And I let them because I know I deserve it but I hate myself for it. I hate everything about myself.

At this point there’s no one who I want to stay alive for, no one who wants me alive. Nobody would notice that I’m even gone, I’ve proven that. For years I’ve tried to get help but I am ignored again and again. The pain is too much. Actual physical pain. I hate it. I hate everything.