Friday, December 25, 2015

Thought

Too many nights I have spent awake crying from frustration as I rip the razor blade across my wrists, shins, belly, or thighs, trying to find a way to evict the dark cloud out of my head. Too many nights I have spent in despair, overflowing with emotion, too weak to fight off the voices telling me that I wasn't doing it right and that what I gave wasn't enough. This isn't a temporary phase, it's a lifetime. I've recently dealt with negative thoughts that began to cripple my every day life, and I was about to give up. I summoned up every ounce of my courage and tried to tell my parents that I needed help, I need help coping. The voice that I hear is overpowering me and sometimes, it's so loud that I listen to it. Like I will tonight. I am going to let that voice take over me. I already know that I won't have the strength to fight back.

I told my parents that I needed help.
My mom told me it was a phase.
My dad said that it was selfish.
And my brother said to ignore them.

How do I ignore their opinion when they are the ones who took me in and raised me?
Impossible.

At least five posts on Facebook were made between Thanksgiving and Christmas about the importance of mental health.

They commented on each publicly, but still said nothing to me until today. Christmas day. And what made her say something? She had to use the excuse that my family members were asking about me and wanted to know if I was okay. I said yes.

Lie.

But seriously, why do you wait to ask until you need an excuse to ask?

I know that it'd weird to ask. I know you don't want to think about it, me having a problem. But I do. And I need more help.

I guess what's bothering me is that mom thinks that everything is fine and dandy, but when she does ask me if I'm having a problem, it's always at a bad time. She asked today. I'm not going to tell you that I envision myself putting my foot on the gas pedal as hard as I can and 'accidentally' losing control of the wheel. Or that I want to sit in the bathtub and slit my wrists the right way, so that I disappear forever.

Don't push my mental health outside. You're not right.

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