A suicide note
Dear reader,
I am sorry. If you are reading this letter, chances are I am either about to commit suicide or giving on last desperate cry for help. For years now I have been struggling with depression, it started way back in elementary school when I was a child and I have been dealing with it ever since. There are of course those rare brief moments when I am happy, but those don’t usually last very long. And it is not just because of the depression that I am writing this, but the voices too, and the anorexia. You may not guess by looking at me but yes I am anorexic, refusing to eat, calling myself fat, and working out so extremely it hurts to walk the next day. I also cut, it has become an addiction to slice my skin open and watch the blood flow out.
In first and second grade I was bullied by a girl named Nani, she was a grade older than me and made me so reluctant to go to school I can remember taking my legs and jamming into the concrete sidewalk making myself bleed to get out of going to school. And then of course there was also Fred, calling me ‘pee-girl’ and constantly harassing me, and the other children who made fun of my speech impediment. In about fifth grade my best friend and I became ex-best friends, I remember going to a church lock-in with her and her telling me she was only my friend in elementary because she felt bad for me. I was a charity, taken in and pitied, all those sleep overs those secrets exchanged, they were all false, fake, I did not matter. But I was strong and didn’t cry. The worst child hood trauma I had was when a girl in my ballet class told me I sucked and made fun of my body, I lost all confidence and still have not gained it back. Her words still haunt me and I am scared to change in front of people, scared for people to see my body, disgusted and ashamed because of it.
Middle school got better, I was fine for a while and then kids started making fun of me and saying I looked like I did drugs all day long. I got asked what type of drugs I did and if I would share with people more times than I can count. I was called ugly, and my friends joked that I was fat. I was suicidal my whole middle school career since sixth grade and like my depression it has not gone away.
High school was much better, I was bullied less, hardly at all accept for those few rarer occasions. I am now currently a junior, sixteen, anorexic, suicidal, and depressed. I have anxiety issues and cannot focus too busy thinking I am fat or stupid or ugly. The fear of someone touching me is always on my mind, after being molested by a former classmate in middle school and my younger brother who has an immature infatuation of me.
At home my mother drinks, my father isn’t ever really around, sometimes I can hear my siblings crying. And they all still expect me to get straight A’s and be perfect, they want me to always do a sport and pressure me way too much. You may say that is no reason to kill yourself, or cry about, I know people have it way worse than me. I am sorry this letter took the five minutes out of your life to read, my life is already a failure and now I just wasted your time, sorry I know my words are not worth it.
I am sorry. If you are reading this letter, chances are I am either about to commit suicide or giving on last desperate cry for help. For years now I have been struggling with depression, it started way back in elementary school when I was a child and I have been dealing with it ever since. There are of course those rare brief moments when I am happy, but those don’t usually last very long. And it is not just because of the depression that I am writing this, but the voices too, and the anorexia. You may not guess by looking at me but yes I am anorexic, refusing to eat, calling myself fat, and working out so extremely it hurts to walk the next day. I also cut, it has become an addiction to slice my skin open and watch the blood flow out.
In first and second grade I was bullied by a girl named Nani, she was a grade older than me and made me so reluctant to go to school I can remember taking my legs and jamming into the concrete sidewalk making myself bleed to get out of going to school. And then of course there was also Fred, calling me ‘pee-girl’ and constantly harassing me, and the other children who made fun of my speech impediment. In about fifth grade my best friend and I became ex-best friends, I remember going to a church lock-in with her and her telling me she was only my friend in elementary because she felt bad for me. I was a charity, taken in and pitied, all those sleep overs those secrets exchanged, they were all false, fake, I did not matter. But I was strong and didn’t cry. The worst child hood trauma I had was when a girl in my ballet class told me I sucked and made fun of my body, I lost all confidence and still have not gained it back. Her words still haunt me and I am scared to change in front of people, scared for people to see my body, disgusted and ashamed because of it.
Middle school got better, I was fine for a while and then kids started making fun of me and saying I looked like I did drugs all day long. I got asked what type of drugs I did and if I would share with people more times than I can count. I was called ugly, and my friends joked that I was fat. I was suicidal my whole middle school career since sixth grade and like my depression it has not gone away.
High school was much better, I was bullied less, hardly at all accept for those few rarer occasions. I am now currently a junior, sixteen, anorexic, suicidal, and depressed. I have anxiety issues and cannot focus too busy thinking I am fat or stupid or ugly. The fear of someone touching me is always on my mind, after being molested by a former classmate in middle school and my younger brother who has an immature infatuation of me.
At home my mother drinks, my father isn’t ever really around, sometimes I can hear my siblings crying. And they all still expect me to get straight A’s and be perfect, they want me to always do a sport and pressure me way too much. You may say that is no reason to kill yourself, or cry about, I know people have it way worse than me. I am sorry this letter took the five minutes out of your life to read, my life is already a failure and now I just wasted your time, sorry I know my words are not worth it.