The journey to my suicide. My thoughts and feelings, and what led to my demise. Soundtrack
Read:
Revolution by Jennifer Donnelly
Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson
and
Crosses by Shelley Stoehr
I’ve discovered a few things:
1. I don’t get depressed often, but when I do, it’s hard to pull out.
2. When I said, ‘I don’t cut, I scar’, I lied.
3. I read so I don’t have to deal with my own pain.
I’ve decided that I’m only going to write in extreme situations. I don’t feel as hopeless or sucidial anymore and I don’t want to force myself to write. That wouldn’t help anyone. This when be for when im feeling my lowest or darkest, and I need somewhere to turn. I should be happy that this journal of madness isn’t forever.
I woke up to a child’s voice again except this time it was a commercial on the radio. It took several minutes to convince myself it wasn’t real.
My only friend in Honor Choir dropped. It’s just like last year, I’m all alone and no one talks to me unless they have to. I’ve given my life to choir and this is what I get in return.
I’ve been grounded for the last few months because I hooked up with a guy. I tried to convince myself that I was using him (like he was using me) but I get attached to anything that shows the slightest interest in me. We haven’t talked or seen each other since it happened, but I ran into him in the hall today. A bolt of electricity shot through me, maybe because he scares me, maybe because he was smiling. Either way, any work I had achieved to get over him was completely shattered by that bolt.
God save us everyone
As we burn inside the fires of a thousand suns
For the sins of our hands
Sins of our tongue
The sins of our fathers
The sins of our young | Linkin Park
Wednesday: A child whispers in my ear “We can play over there”. When I open my eyes, a young boy about 7, with black eyes, is standing in my doorway, staring at me. I lie awake in horror for 20 minutes. Wake Up: 2:32 AM
Disclaimer: What I write is written during an intense moment of anger or sadness. Anger brings out the honesty in me. Sadness brings the beauty. You can’t really pay attention to either, because in the real world, I pretend, and lie behind the smile of one of the most hideous people you’ve ever seen.
I feel my relationship with my mother sinking day by day. We fight more than ever and I find myself lashing out. I don’t want to go to college, I don’t want to work, I don’t want to worry anymore. I wan relief. Death, not breathing or moving, it sounds so sweet.
