I'm 18 years old. I'm old enough to live on my own. I'm old enough to vote and buy cigarettes. And if I were in the army I'd be old enough to drink. I'm old enough to serve my country. And yet I feel like everything I've ever come to know and love is just fleeting from me. Disappearing. I've been so emotional about everything and it's finally coming to hit me. And I hate this feeling.
All my life I didn't think I was going to make it to 18. And it's the worst feeling in the world when you get a call from your grandmother on your 18th birthday saying "Congratulations! You made it to 18 mami!" I have done nothing in my life that is worth noting. I've never been apart of sports so I'm not athletic. I've gotten horrible grades so I've never been known to be athletic. I've never stood out in anything. Not even writing and that is my passion, but I suck at it. I sing well but its not extraordinary. I don't know what I would go to collage for, if I even decide to go.
Every time I am near someone I come off as annoying. If I say anything I'm talked over. I'm one of those friends you go to when you want someone to be nice to you. I'm nothing special. I am that friend that stays silent and says nothing about their lives. If I try to you will always outdo me. It doesn't matter what it is, you just do. I will not go down in history as anything but a common kid who is sad. Probably needs therapy, but will never get it.
From the age of 11 I've probably come up with about a million ways to off myself. Quite creative ways too. I began self harm when I was 14 and I quit when I was 16. So, I'm about 3 years clean. I keep a razor near me all the time, but I never use it. I just stare at it. Some times I get the urge to run the blade down my arm, but the urge passes. My boyfriend would notice any blemishes anyways. It would be dumb of me to even attempt it.
I've written my suicide note about a hundred times. Each time telling every individual person how they affected me in a positive or a negative way and each given a different way of saying goodbye. I've even written one to my boyfriend a while ago, but I lost it. I guess that's a good thing.
When I was about 14 (around the same time I began self-harming) I gained an eating disorder too. Anorexia. Its a more subtle way to control myself. I see myself as a whale in the mirror and I want to become a skeleton sometimes. "Thin is always beautiful." says the voice in my head. And I listen to it. My friend Ariel doesn't even know how bad I've gotten recently. She went through recovery with me.
Why am I telling you this? You'll never read this. No one reads the blog section any ways, but for those .5% of you that are reading this:
1.Yes I have been to therapy and it didn't really work for me. Talking to a stranger about your problems so they can tell other people later isn't really my thing. And yes. They do tell other people whether they use your name or not.
2. I have been put on medication and it turned me into a zombie. It didn't help me or stabilize me it just kind of put me in a sleep mode for a few months that I was on it.
Well, I guess that's it.
Until later Mibba.
-Dani
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