Can I be honest, with you?
This is killing me. It’s suffocating me, and squeezing my lungs shut. The harder it gets, the less I can’t breathe. Anxiety attacks, depression, isolation; all because of this life.
Sometimes I actually do wonder why I bother typing, or writing, about all of these issues, especially this one. It’s just that so many people out there are experiencing this too… So what makes me so important to throw it out there, when I probably don’t have it as worse as most?
Now days, children, even at such a young age, must constantly worry about financial issues. About whether or not there parents will make the monthly rent. Sure some may not understand it, some may be too young to even process the reality of it, but what about all of those teenagers?
You know, the ones who are growing old, starting to understand life, and dealing with so many semi-crisiss themselves? How does it feel to have such a bomb dropped on you, to be 13 or older, and your parents constantly depressed, constantly stressed, over money? How does it feel to be deprived of all the things you WISH you could do so so badly, but never get the chance too?
Even worse, how does it feel to feel so horrified about your parents, about keeping your house, about not having to live on the street, that you actually at the age of 13, start helping your parents out. You give them money, because you can’t handle the pain of it. And just a mere 50 dollars that you could have been saving for months, is enough to get the yelling to stop, the tears to dry, and the breaking of your heart to temporarily mend.
Well I will tell you. It’s torture. In my opinion worse than hell. Is it bad for me to say I’d rather be dead, sitting in some coffin under the cold dirt, than have to be a part of such pain? Maybe I am weak. Maybe I am naïve. Maybe I was a mistake to this world, if I can’t deal with such small but at the same time enormous catastrophes. But here I am again, rambling about my loses in life, when I bet there are children with no homes at all, no parents, no anything. Maybe I’d rather have that. Maybe I would substitute the yelling & the tears, for nothing. Are those kids lucky? I think they are….Because it seems better than to have nothing in the beginning than have everything and loose it all in the blink of an eye.
I feel like I’m drowning, whether it be out of water or in. I feel like the world is collapsing on my shoulders, and one day, my need to give in will come so fast, that the pressure of it all with take what little life I have within me and obliterate it. That’s my \"sure to come\" end.
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