Through My Sad Eyes

Through My Sad Eyes

Status: In Progress

Genre: Other



Status: In Progress

Genre: Other



The tale through the eyes of a depressed girl named Taylor. Her life through her eyes before she committed suicide. *Warning: This is suggested ages 16+ for brutal content (cutting, suicide) and may be triggering.*
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The tale through the eyes of a depressed girl named Taylor. Her life through her eyes before she committed suicide. *Warning: This is suggested ages 16+ for brutal content (cutting, suicide) and may be triggering.*

Chapter1 (v.1) - Taylor

Author Chapter Note

Triggering chapter, introducing Taylor and how everyday life feels.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 07, 2017

Reads: 75

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 07, 2017



Thoughts. Trapped. Scared. Fearful. Alone. Broken. Betrayed. Annoying. Crushed. Ugly. Fat. Stupid. Fool. Anxious. Defeated. Not good enough. Clueless. Pathetic.

So many words pop into my head when I think of the name, “Taylor”.

Not some mean girl at school’s name.

Not a girl I know being bullied at school.

Taylor is me.

I am Taylor.

I am also depressed.



Lied to.



I am so many things that I can’t keep track of. And so many things that I’m not. The list is shorter, but that shorter list has everything I want to be, but not.


Has friends.


Funny how the small things make you happy, yet even small things can ruin you.

This story comes through and from my eyes. No exaggeration. Lies. Just the truth.

The truth isn’t pretty either. As a young kid, we never expected to grow up and have to feel this pain that drags us down, until there is nothing going down anymore. Depression is like a war within ourselves, no one else involved, unless they are on the side of the part against you. But during depression, it seems as if everyone is watching and not doing anything, or actually participating to destroy you. And when you’re like this, when you’re cornered and being attacked, there’s 2 ways out. 2.


Or die trying.

There isn’t another way out.

Maybe you pretend all of your life that you’re okay but still being challenged with this, it’s still die trying. Suicide, die trying. Getting better, winning. Healing, winning.

But it sucks having to feel like this and feel alone, yet people are still trying to put you down or tell you it’s a phase or not real feelings or you don’t have a reason to feel like this.

But nothing matters anymore. Nothing does. And it’s a battle just to wake up. To get up. To do anything and everyone around you just doesn’t understand that. That you can’t take anymore and no one can do anything about that.

The worse part is when you know you have to go to someone but you can’t. No one would care. No one understands this. You are alone and no one will help you. And you can’t do anything about it. About how you feel. You have no more power.

One day you are happy, alright.The next day, you’re crying yourself to sleep every night. It’s a pattern, you either have episodes or just flat out always depressed and waiting for it to ware off because you can’t handle this sort of pain anymore. You begin to lie to yourself and everyone around you, saying that you’re fine and feel better soon. But the thing is, you aren’t fine and you won’t feel better soon.

And anxiety decides to come along with its best friend depression and attacks the host. You are the host of something you don’t want to host.

And to be afraid of living. “Are you afraid of dieing?” No, you’re really not. You are afraid of living.

And living with this everyday yet lying and putting on a mask of happiness to trick everyone that you’re fine. But you aren’t. But then no one cares or helps you when you need it. In fact, they make it worse.

And all you want to do is just feel better and get over this pain.

Or better yet, to just die. You know you shouldn’t say it or think it, but you can’t help it.

And… there are other options.

I wanted to save the world. To help other people, give them happiness and keep none for myself.

I’m telling my story to show other people there is another way out of this living hell.

This is my story.


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