how would you feel if i died?

i’ve been round this block so many times, it’s hard to fight it anymore. i don’t want to live. i don’t know for sure if i truly want to die, but i know i don’t want to live and i know don’t want to survive this. i don’t see a way out. nobody truly cares.

and you might call bullshit on that, you might argue and give me a list of people who care. but in these moments, i don’t see it, i can’t see it. in these moments, there is nobody there. call it selfish, but it truly feels like nobody cares enough. and maybe it’s true, nobody will ever care enough to make me feel like maybe i am worth something. sometimes it feels like i am screaming for help and nobody cares enough to answer. today my psychologist told me how my screams for help are perceived as barely muffled whispers in desperation for validation and rescue, how my own constant invalidation of my problems and emotions translate into cries for help that hardly seem like cries at all.

i see it on a cognitive level, she’s probably right. but i am also screaming my lungs out when i barely have the capacity to yell in the first place. i am screaming my lungs out and desperately trying to stay afloat and even if all my cries are drowned, this is all i can do. i am screaming and nobody hears me and more i scream the more exhausted i get. the more i am left alone and unheard and abandoned, the more i want to die and the harder it is to scream at all. it is excruciating. imagine having to not just fight to stay afloat, but having to scream for help every day when your biggest fear is the act of screaming in itself. imagine the constant fear and panic, imagine the pain, every time you scream and nobody reaches out, you are submerged deeper and deeper.

my psychologist says the desperation in which i search for a lifeboat of validation and help is counter-productive. that no amount of lifeboats will ever teach me how to swim or how to actually come up for air to properly ask for help. she’s right. it will never be enough and i cannot rely on lifeboats forever. but what else can i do when i am drowning so quickly? what else can i do when my very own survival instincts turn against me, when survival has always meant swimming on your own but now all of a sudden survival is anything but swimming on your own. when all of a sudden swimming on your own is merely an illusion because you cannot do it on your own forever. and yet your brain is too scared to properly hold onto lifeboats but too anxious to stop screaming for help and too full of self-hatred to stop cutting the ropes of the boats. when lifeboats are not safe anymore and the water is not safe and lifeboats cannot hold you forever.

i cannot get to shore.

i cannot get to shore on my own but nobody is here.

how would people feel if i died?

i said in therapy today, i would inconvenience people because nobody likes to deal with dead girls. but i do not matter and everyone else’s life will go on. i truly believe i do not matter and i have no worth. i truly believe nobody would really care if i died. maybe once upon a time, they would, but look at me now. nobody wants to deal with a broken girl. nobody knows how to fix rag dolls have have been torn apart, stitch by stitch, nobody wants to see the ugliness inside. look at me now. now they all know the truth, now they all know the selfishness and brokenness and pain and unworthiness that lies beneath a cheerful, people-pleasing demeanor. nobody stays. i should have remembered, nobody stays. eventually they find out about the broken parts you hide, and eventually they leave. everyone has left.

i don’t think it would matter if i died. maybe a few people would be sad, but it’s nothing that can’t get over quickly. i don’t matter. my best friend still has her other friends, my family has each other, my friends in school all have people in their lives. they will be okay. my psychologist said today, she would be devastated if she found out i took my own life in between sessions. she said it would be the loss of someone with so much to offer the world. she said that this doesn’t last forever, that she’s worked with many suicidal people and nobody truly wants to die, they just want an out. she said that my family isn’t going to be a huge part of my life forever, that these are issues we can work out, but we can’t do anything if i’m dead. i want to believe her. but i don’t know how, and i don’t know if that is enough.

i want to believe her and i want to believe my best friend and i want to believe the people who have sent me messages telling me to keep going. i want to believe the people on the internet that say things change and the people who say they don’t want to die, nobody wants to die, how you realise it only when you’re actually dying. i want to believe the people who say that the real you is the version of you that is happiest. i want to believe there is an out. i want to believe there is recovery and there is respite somewhere. but my head is also constantly pounding, volume turned all the way up, the same old unworthy/unloved/inadequate/invalid/alone/abandoned/hopeless/nobody cares/burden. 

the same old pain that takes over your entire being, the same old pain that has left you begging for death over and over and over again. anything but this pain.

i am fighting to be alive even when i am desperate to die. i am fighting the hardest as i lay in bed paralyzed by the emotional pain that has turned into physical pain. i am fighting the hardest as i tell someone that i’m struggling, or as i send out desperate sos signals that say ‘i am not okay’ thinking that someone might see those messages and actually ask (and yes, that is the best i can do to ask for help). i am fighting the hardest as i wake up in the morning realising i am still alive and having to stomach the nauseating thought of having to live another day. i am fighting the hardest as this heart continues to beat and lungs continue to expand and neurons continue to fire despite my desperate attempts to cease this system.

somehow i am still fighting. i told my psychologist- I will try but i don’t know how much longer i can hold on. i cannot promise i will not go through with my plans. i can be safe today, and i can be safe tomorrow and maybe the day after. but i cannot see a future and i cannot see a light and the life-rafts around me either look like monsters or disintegrate upon touch. i don’t see how i’m supposed to help myself, or learn to swim. and yet, deep down i know that if i don’t die, i have to learn to swim eventually, that i cannot live like this. and yet, deep deep down i know there is some stupid part of me that will always fight to live because it’s so innately human.

and it hurts. it all just hurts.

i am tired. i want to say ‘help me’ but what is the point anymore? i am helpless. i deserve to be alone. i deserve to be abandoned. if anything, today and the past week has confirmed the fact that nobody is helping me. i’m alone. and i still want to die. i don’t think anyone would mind.

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