I was sitting on my bed with a razor in one hand and pills in the other ready to end the long, lonely fight. The demons were running around in my head getting ready for the moment they’ve been waiting for. These demons are destructive, breaking down the life I once knew. Not a single clear thought in sight. I want to believe there’s hope and maybe there is. But all I know is the fucked up place I’ve let them take me that I can’t get out of. These thoughts make me want to do it so much more because no one gives a fuck. Words fucking hurt, they really do. “Sticks and stones may break your bones but words will never hurt me” is the biggest bullshit I’ve ever heard. The people that are meant to love you the most will hurt you the most. The most hurtful words someone has ever said to me have come from my own mom. ‘What have I done in my life to have had a child like you’. ‘I wish I never had you’. ‘You’re lucky you aren’t in foster care’. There’s more but the more I think about it the more I want to end everything. The more it feels like my world is falling apart.
Whilst this was all going on I had been suspended from school, attempting to figure out how to deal with my suicidal thoughts, trying to handle my constant anxiety attacks and not knowing how to express my emotions to anyone. Ugh all I wish is that I had a normal, functional life. Is that too much to ask for? I guess it is.
Australia • 22 years old