My Final Cry For Help
I am writing this because I need help, and have no Idea how to get it. I am writing this to try to ease my mind, and I am writing this in the hopes that someone can help me pull out of this. I'm scared of myself, scared of my own mind. I'm afraid of what I might do.
Every night, when I'm trying to sleep, suicidal thoughts rack my brain. Thoughts of cutting my wrists, jumping out my window, all thoughts that scare the shit out of me. I can't tell my family these things, they worry enough, and so here I am, pouring my heart out to people I've never met hoping at least one person will realize that I'm suffering. I have reached the point where I hate my life, and truly want it to end. I feel alone, lost, and broken down.
All my life I've been shot down no matter how hard I tried. People I thought were my friends destroyed my self esteem, and left me with a hate for the world. I feel like I'm useless, and have no place in this world. I feel like the world doesn't want me, and nor does heaven or even hell.
I've been bullied my whole life for no reason. People always looked at me, saw that I was different, and put me down because of it. They all see me as strange, and to this day, I don't understand what makes me a target, other than not following the crowd. I keep hoping that something will kill me so that I don't have to feel guilty about doing it myself. I hardly value my life, and I only try to fight my urges for the sake of my family and friends.
My thoughts have taken me over before, and I tried to cut my wrist, but I failed because I couldn't find anything sharp enough. I've had to pull myself away from ledges, and fight the urge to dash my brains out on a brick wall. I don't like these thoughts, and I don't know if I can overcome them for much longer. Each day it feels like my mind's defenses get weaker and the thought get stronger.
Everytime I try to pull myself out this despair, somebody comes along and shoots me back down. I get the feeling I'm not meant to crawl out of this whole. Maybe my life is a waste, and I am useless. Maybe I'm meant to just go out on my own terms. I don't know if I can argue that theory at this point. Every time I come up with a reason to live, the world give me five reasons to die.
Please, I need help. I don't want to disappoint my friends and family. I just don't know how to stop these thoughts. I don't know how to bring myself out of this. The light grows dimmer as the thoughts become more real, and I've run out of places to put my anger.
Please don't think of this as just another piece of writing this is very real. I'm afraid of myself, and what I might do. I hope this last desperate attempt is worth it, because I don't know what else to do. I'd like to thank anyone who helps me through this ahead of time, and I wish you all a good day.
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Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
Short Story / Fantasy
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