Depression.
It storms in at any time it wants
Kind of like when my step dad used to come home at crazy hours of the day drunk out of his mind.
It takes over your life and controls you, forcing you to do whatever it wants you to,
Just like that guy my mom stayed with after countless attacks, she still stayed.
It's kind of funny actually because I was so young when everything happened.
All the signs were there, but no one could see them.
But I could.
No one noticed the signs when at only 9 years old, my uncle ***** me and I became super distant from my father growing up, in fear that another guy I trusted would hurt me.
No one noticed how closed off I became when my mom stayed with Joseph after he hurt her so many times. I never understood how she could stay with someone who traumatized her child. Maybe she doesn't really love me as much as I thought she did.
No one noticed the cuts on my arms and legs that I permanently carved into my skin after not knowing what else to do with the awful feelings that I felt inside.
How could the people who were so caught up in me living my life the way they wanted not notice the ******* signs.
All the weight I lost, they praised me for it.
Saying things like “Oh my god, you've lost weight..”
“You look so good.”
But they didn't even notice the reason for it.
They didn't notice my loss of appetite or that I forced myself to throw up at any time that I could.
It really makes me think,
People always say how much they care and how much they love you
but they don't even see the things that are wrong right under their noses.
They just assume that I'm some happy go lucky girl who has this bright *** futrue in front of her
but they don't see the struggle it took me to get where I am.
They don't see the hours that I put in trying to make sure I graduate high school and not fall into some typical black kid statistics.
They don't see the smile that I constantly plaster on my face so that my little sisters don't ask me why I cried myself to sleep last night, so that my mom doesn't have to stress more than she already does, staying up worrying about me.
They don't see that the broken pieces of this “perfect, happy girl” have been duct taped and glued back together more times than I can count on my own fingers and toes.
These people don't care about me,
these people only see what they want to see.
They only tell me what they want me to believe.
I'm all alone.
No matter how many people surround me in this room.
I'm on my own,
no matter how many people tell me that they understand and that they're here for me.
This life is hell,
I'm in a living nightmare.
I'm so sick and tired of people telling me it gets better.
I'm so tired of crying and no tears come out because I've cried every last drop of moisture left.
Everyday I scream for help and no one hears me.
I tried to tell my mom, she didn't listen.
I can't bring myself to tell my dad because I'm afraid.
I've caused my parents so much stress and I don't want to see them stress anymore.
I don't want to be the reason that people are unhappy.
So this is what I have to do,
I'm going to stop eating until I just shed away.
I'm going to stop talking because I have nothing left to say.
I've made it this far but I can't see the bright side anymore.
I give up!!
I can't anymore,
I'm all out of tries.
This is not a good bye,
it's just the beginning of the end of my life long struggle of suicide.