(WARNINGS: this is long, mentions my shitty life aka suicide, self harm, anorexia, literally every type of abuse, bullying, sexting, depression, anxiety, PTSD, idk what else but just be careful and thank you for reading if you do)
I am scared to grow up. i have been all my 17 years of life, just like I’ve always had intense anxiety and felt like shit about how i look to the point where I’ve nearly died dieting which I’ve been doing since i was 11. I just feel so bad about myself. Maybe it’s because all the people I’ve ever loved have hurt me badly to the point of betrayal and abuse. Maybe it’s because I was born hating myself, my mum says my sisters woke up happy as babies but I always woke up crying. Maybe I did something really shitty in a past life or maybe my wrong doings are coming back to bite me with 10 times the force. I don’t know.
I don’t know anything any more. I thought I heard a voice whisper my name the other day. Not in my head, but heard it through my ears. It scared the hell out of me. Maybe I’m going crazy, maybe seeing photos of people killing and eating their horse on the street because they were starving traumatised me more than being used for a kid to get himself off on as an 8 year old or more than the rest of the hell I’ve lived through.
I feel like such shit. I want to have those ‘teenage’ memories you hear about in songs. The ones where you kiss your crush, they like you back, you go to many school dances with your friends that you went shopping with, learning to drive and get a job and do homework on time, go to parties with drinks and drugs, with swimming, dancing, kissing, making out, having a boyfriend/girlfriend, running through the city like crazy, getting kicked out of shops or museums, playing around, testing the waters of life. Like in all the songs and the movies. But that’s not life and it fucking kills me that life can’t be like that.
I didn’t ask to be here, to be alive. Hell I’ve tried not to be one or more times a year since I was 12. I have to live in a society where I am surrounded by other people but completely alone. I’ve tried. God knows I’ve tried to feel better. Sometimes I do and sometimes I spiral down so hard I need my friend to save my life. Sometimes I force myself to be so numb I forget how to feel, so I try to feel the only thing I know, pain, and hurt myself just to feel fucking anything. I feel so dead, this is not life, this is merely existence and though I don’t deserve it I want so much more.
I want my last year of school to be perfect. I want a boyfriend or a girlfriend. I want a job. I want to learn how to drive so I can go on long drives just to use the car’s stereo and sing with my sister. I want to study so hard at a desk in my room (that means I need to get myself both a desk and a room). I want know how to study because nobody’s told me how. I want to play the guitar (buuut I need to buy one, learn it, learn to write sheet music then my lyrics will be good for something). I want to dance under the moon, swim in the waterfall near my house (so I gotta learn to swim), be a part of the cheerleading and dance competitions (but I’m broke, it’s $10,000+ per year, and I’m a shit dancer, got the passion but 2 left feet). I want to love life. I want to be alive and create memories of being an idiot, but a happy idiot. I want to have fun, be a screw up, but also get my school work done on time. I want to be allowed to wear make up to school. Hell, I want the self confidence and esteem to wear tight clothes!
But the bitter truth is so damn different. The truth is even if I had the option I couldn’t. I can’t swim, I’m too ugly, I’m dumb, I can’t dance, I live too far away from fun places, I have no one to have fun with, I’m depressed I hate myself, I have no money, i’m not allowed a job because I’ll get burnt out and try to die again etc. But even if I had the options, I couldn’t. because I am too bloody scared to grow up. Because the older I get the more alone I become. And I can’t handle that. And I can’t handle the responsibility because all I have known since I had to keep my mother alive when I was 10 is responsibility. To clean the house, look after my sisters, look after myself, do well at school and why aren’t you stretching if you want to be a dancer? You couldn’t you don’t love it enough or try hard enough even if you haven’t eaten in days.
I sound psychotic, don’t I ? I’m just writing down my thoughts as they come. The truth is I’m a piece of crap and I want to die but attempting suicide isn’t even an option any more and that makes me want to hurt myself even more in spite of this whole fucking mess I’ve gotten into. I want all those fun memories, but you know what my memories are? My memories are of being beaten and doing the beating. Memories of chewed up sandwiches forced on me, teachers throwing away my lunch, yelling the screaming and the crying and the lies. Then there were the tests about my head behind my back, the reveal destroying New Years Eve for me permanently, heartbreak, rage, black outs, running away many times, police being called, being chased down the high way, trying to drown, cut myself to death, suffocate, almost having 90 sleeping tablets. Lonely panic attacks in my own bathroom so my family can’t hear me, looking after myself when I’m sick because no one will, cleaning the house by myself for years, dad yelling if it isn’t clean, mum seeming so hard I can’t talk to her, tell her that I’m bi, that I want to die. Hearing my close friend tried to jump from a cliff and wouldn’t let me save her. She told me it’s because she doesn’t care how I feel, that I was shaking and sick for the 4 days she was in hospital and not answering her phone.
Memories of thinking I’ve found love, thinking I’ve found a friend, sexting him because I don’t want to lose him only for him to leave me after he’s done (J), or he’s grooming me (D), he’s actually in his thirties © but I miss him everyday that bastard made me the crazy person I am, or the friend I didn’t want to hurt, but in trying to protect her, I hurt her anyway, and I dedicate each poem I write to her (E). I don’t want people to use me but I let them. I feel like shit so I head online, let them talk me into sexting, we fuck ourselves and it feels good until your done. Then you just sit, maybe cry. It makes me feel alive, I get high, feel good. Then I come down. I don’t even cry any more. I just play games and distract myself from the pain that is killing me slowly.
I do not want this life. I want to be happy and have fun, not make myself hurt just to feel something. I want love, joy, safety my gosh I want to know what safety feels like. I’m always so scared of something. I always feel like I’m running out of time, time to live, dance, sing, time to be on earth. Running out of life. It’s my biggest fear. Not getting enough done in my life. So I don’t want to grow up, I want to pause time and be happy; but that’s impossible. Nobody can change time, just like nobody can stop the rain form falling.
How can i get that life? Am I hoping for too much? Is this all there is to life? Maybe I’m insane, maybe I’m just intense. Maybe I’m just so different nobody can ever understand me, I’ve always been the odd one out. I just hate myself. I want better, I want that happiness. But is it even possible? Does anybody know? How can I get that happy life, when I have no money, tough family, no opportunities, friends who don’t understand me and no confidence in myself?? I just need someone to save me, and it’s become clear that person is not going to be me.
Thanks for reading. Please tell me something, anything, even if it’s that you don’t understand. Please just let me know I’m not alone.