Based on something that is happening to me. There are mentions of suicide.
She always tried so hard. Always.
There was never a time when she wasn't trying. She tried to look happy, she tried to be friendly. She would try to make people smile, even when she couldn't smile herself. She would always help people to see a reason to live, even when she didn't have one for herself. She lacked self esteem, but was always trying to boost other peoples. But sometimes she really struggled to see the point in the things she did for other people, because no one ever did anything nice back to her.
She forever felt unwanted and used.
Over the past year, she had been diagnosed with depression. So many things had happened that year, and so many things had happened in the years before that; that it became difficult to pin point when the depression had actually began. It had been there for a long time, that was clear to the therapist she saw on a weekly basis. But something that the therapist noticed? That girl always walked into and out of the room with a smile on her face.
That girl was always making sure she did something to help someone, at least once a day. It didn't matter to her who it was, she just wanted to make sure that people didn't spend their days feeling as alone and hurt as she did. She would ask people if they were okay, because she believed that it might be the one thing that stopped that person from committing suicide that day. But no one ever asked her if she was okay. She was the type of girl, who would walk up to an elderly person on the street and ask if they needed any help. She would talk to people randomly on the street who looked upset. She would smile at people walking past, after having read something about a guy who committed suicide because not a single person smiled at him.
She never wanted anyone to feel as bad as she did. She felt worthless every single day. She felt tired every single day. She felt unwanted. She felt unloved. She felt useless. She felt rejected. Even within her family. But she never let this show. She kept smiling, she kept asking people if they were okay, she kept helping people.
But tonight, something inside her snapped. She isn't smiling. She isn't asking her parents or friends if they're okay. She isn't helping anyone. She is sitting in front of her laptop, crying. She's spent almost half an hour crying now. No one has come to see where she is. None of her "friends" have text her. She is just sitting in front of her laptop typing this, tears clouding up her vision. She is sitting here, feeling ugly. She's feeling like a failure, as though she's not worth it. She's wondering what on Earth her girlfriend sees in her. She's wondering if anyone actually cares at all. She's wondering if her girlfriend is with her out of sympathy. She is wondering why her Dad left her. She's wondering why her Dad hate's her. She wants to be made to feel happy and made to laugh. But no one will do those things for her. She wishes she was able to create a good piece of writing, her desires to be an author are slowly fading. She remembers when she used to be a good singer, and wonders why she can't sing as well as she used to any more. She is sitting looking at herself and frowning. She can't remember when she got so fat. She misses being thin. She can't ever remember being pretty, but she is sure she'd never been this ugly.
She has so many flaws. She isn't perfect like Steph tells her. She isn't beautiful. She isn't. She doesn't deserve to have a girlfriend. She doesn't deserve to live anymore. She doesn't have the right to live. Especially not when she's such a pathetic little weirdo, that doesn't fit in anywhere.
She has been into the bathroom. She has looked for the little pills that she knows will end it all. She couldn't find them. She has looked for the blade that she kept in her room. It's gone. So she looked for her laptop instead. And she logged on and opened up FicWad. And she sat down and typed this up while the tears continued to roll down her cheeks. She didn't end her life tonight, and she's not sure why she couldn't find the things she needed. But clearly she couldn't find them for a reason. There is a reason she has to keep living.
So she is going to keep living. She is going to keep smiling and she's going to keep laughing. She's going to keep helping people and making them smile. She's going to keep asking if they're okay. She's going to keep trying. And she's going to make sure she gets to live her life.
But she'll remember this night. The night she came so close to ending it all. And when she looks back, she'll smile a sad smile and wish that she could have came and told her teenage self that things would work out okay for her.
So.. yeah. Basically that was how I was feeling tonight and I thought I'd come on here and write about it. Take that emotion and turn it into something creative. If it's shit, please let me know and I'll just take it back down. I'm probably going to go sleep now, so I can hopefully get rid of this horrible feeling. Goodnight people,