It all started when I was 16 the nightmares the tears the pain that I could never bare and the hateful words that would  never disappear. the sleepless nights were I would beg god to save me from every **** psychologist that tried to define me. Every person saying everything will be okay like one word was suppose to make me happy.
happy, a powerful word within itself, but how do you feel happy when people constantly remind you of your imperfections. They tell me that I will never be enough, they  tell me that I'm a mistake, that I will amount to nothing, that no matter how hard I try I will never be something. but the same people that tear me down are the same people who created me. I wanted to be as beautiful as my mom and as smart as my dad, but how unlucky was I to be the last one they had.
My sister got my dad's mind and my brother got my mom's look, but what did that leave me with? nothing? they define me as a hiccup, not a surprise but as a despised child. The one that they'd give away, the one that would never get treated the same, the one they would leave at school by mistake, and the one that would never define as great. but who gave them the right to define me, when does a person ever get to define another? because I sure as hell know I wont let no one tell me that I wont be something because I wasn't put on this earth to be nothing.
I was put on this earth to make a difference, I was put here to change lives, to touch hearts, to start a movement, to tell people it is okay to be different, because I was put on this earth for a purpose. In that moment I became my own hero, my own prince charming, my own friend. but all this alone time was when the depression kicked in. Depression the act of feeling sad, or so numb you'd do anything to feel, to smile, to cry. Some nights I would be so lucky to fall asleep before I fell apart, before every word said pushed me over the edge, before I'd reach my breaking point once again, before a bottle of pills would go missing from the medicine cabinet, before an episode would spark up again. An episode, that's what they would call it when you want to die, its a nicer way of saying suicide. Suicide a word a feeling an action that could have been prevented if they didn't define me as their mistake kid. but that mistake kid let me tell you, she is a fighter she is standing here telling her story unapologetic about her depression, unapologetic about her suicide attempts, unapologetic about her life, so she can preach to every young kid that your life is a God given gift.

Don’t be too happy, but don’t be too sad.
Say what you mean, but not if it’s bad.
Be confident but not to confident or they’ll call you conceited
Don’t show too much skin but don’t be too *****
Be yourself but if you’re not like me then we’ll judge you
If you don’t wear anything smaller than a size 6 they’ll call you fat, If you have bad grammar they’ll consider you black, If you don’t play sports they’ll label you as whack.
If your grades are bad then you’ll amount to nothing but hey keep your head up selling **** will at least make you something.
Being unfaithful is the new trend while underage drinking makes you more friends.we live in a world where failures thrive while successful people run and hide. I’m sorry for being too blunt but I’m only telling the truth it’s sad to see someone judge by Society’s rules.
Life as a teen has become one big test and if you don’t understand what I am saying then you’re probably the one grading the rest.

The walls are an off white and green with doors every couple feet, lights so bright that you could mistake them as heaven. Moving fast down the hallway on a rolling bed I noticed the blood coming out of my chest the nurse kept asking me something but I couldn’t hear over the consent ring in my ear and then suddenly everything went dark.

My thoughts consume me when it's just me my thoughts and the darkness the odds will forever be against me. It’s like walking across a tightrope one wrong step and you plunge to your death, one wrong thought and there goes to stability, there goes your sanity, there goes your strength, and soon you’re drowning in your own tears.

They say before you die you get a glimpse of what your life could have been, I didn’t get that glimpse, I got a glimpse of him and every moment I spent with him. It all started at one forty am October 4th that’s when we made our relationship official, our first kiss gave off a feel of relief like the morphine running through my veins stopping the chest pains. Then came the first date we spent at Deanna Rose Farmstead, even though it was a place for little kids we managed to make it fun.

I watched as we walked through the butterfly garden holding hands and sharing funny stories. The feeling of your hand intertwined with mine sent  a rush through my body like the IV rushing through my bloodstream. Then came the first time you told me you loved me and for the first time I had everything, in this moment they removed the bullet and closed the wound.

Then the break up came, I watched as you humiliated me infront of my friends, I watched as you belittled the girl you claimed to love the feeling of humiliation caused the internal bleeding in my body. Months went by and  I watch as you loved another girl, I watched as you danced with her at homecoming, but just last year that was me. Watching you happy with another girl felt like my chest was being cut open. I told myself that I would never give you a second chance until I reached out and gave you a second chance.

Maybe it was because I missed you or maybe because we weren’t to be, but something was telling me that your love would be the death of me, but I still let you in. while the doctors were trying to save me I was watching a movie of our story realizing I loved you but you loved what I could give you. You loved what you could benefit from but I loved you.

I love the way you look when you sleep and the way you say babe, I love you smile and your eyes, I love you dimples, I love the feeling of you hand intertwined with mine, I love the feeling of your arms around me, I love the way you kissed me. I love your heart. I love the way you loved me, didn’t know everything I loved was a memory because this whole time I thought our love was reality. I guess it’s like that when I’m the only one showing any kind of intimacy.

I could hear the doctors say we’re losing her. When you’re in love you ignore the red flags not because you’re naive but because you’re too blind to see the bad thing increasing while the good decrease. Less hellos more goodbyes, less I’m sorry and more blaming, Less I love you and more fights. The heart is blind but the mind never misses a thing but you can’t love with your mind. If only my mind and heart could think alike maybe I wouldn’t be crying myself to sleep at night.

The doctor screams we’re losing her we’re losing her. Maybe I would have realized the one word text beep, the read and no reply beep, the no effort to see me beep, the girl you were talking to other than me beep. Said you weren’t ready for a relationship or just didn’t want me beep. I was honest with you beep, never held back my feelings for you beep, never thought of myself always thought of you beep.

Why did you tell me you loved me when you didn’t beep, why did you break my heart beep, why don’t my tears affect you beep, why did I put you before my own mental health beep, why did you take a shotgun to my heart beep.

I told you life was too short too waste beep so when the doctors walk in the hospital waiting room they’ll let you know that I am done waiting for you beep. Time of death 01:40.

I am a night owl I get it from mom I mean if you can really inherit a sleeping disorder. I was told it was because I had too much going on in my mind I needed to rest but you can't really turn off your brain.
I can't stop thinking I can't get rid of the vivid images in my head the screams the sobs the pain it won't go away. It haunts me with every step I take, every breath I make, every blink of an eye is a mini nightmare I wish to not see.
Please if you hear me take my dreams and make them disappear. I'm scared of my own head I'm scared of the images that it creates for me to see and sometimes I don't need to close my eyes to see nightmares because the nightmares became reality. I can't even tell the difference between a human and a demon, what do you do when your own mind is against you?
Everything is enclosing on me the right things are turning into the wrong things while the mess is perfectly clear to see.
Tick tock ding another bad dream is ready to be seen adding more weight to my shoulder adding boulder by boulder while my heart is starting to get colder.
Tick tock another chime on the clock for my nightmare is ready to turn from a dream to reality.
Tick tock the clock won't ever stop tick tock more rocks tick tock another demon in the crowd too many I can't pick any out.
The ticking won't stop the clock strikes 1 another loved one gone striking 2 another student drops blue 3 more families crying 4 more nightmares are made 5 another innocent person 6 more broken hearts that won't get fix 7 the blur of my mind begins again 8 questioning why I can't control my head 9 help please my mind is taking a toll on me 10 11 12 now to repeat. There is no white flag in the battle against your brain for your brain feels no pain.

I feel as empty as a alcoholics bottle, they say time will heal all wounds but my wounds are diseases. Staring blankly at a wall contemplating life or death, wondering what this life has left to offer me because all I see is nothing. My depression has taken over my body it has consumed me completely and I’m okay with that. I’m okay with dying now, they say suicide doesn’t end the pain it just passes it to someone else, but I’m okay with that now.
Nobody cares until it’s too late to be there, then they cry because they lost a beautiful soul saying they didn’t know. Well that’s a lie they did know they just didn’t say anything because they thought it was for attention. Well let me tell you something do you think I want to **** myself  for attention no because once you’re dead people will forget about you they will use past tense to describe you for a week if you’re lucky. You’ll have your fifteen seconds of fame I promise you that but once you’re buried so are the memories. I don’t want to die because of attention, I want to die because this is a ****** world we live in.
I have a question, Do you notice my absence or miss me when I’m sick? If I die will you come to my funeral or will you stay at home? Do you know anything about me or what kind of things affect me? Can you tell me how long I’ve been depressed or how many times suicide has crossed my mind?
Depression is my disease depression will soon be the end of me and trust me I won’t live as long as God wants me to. Depression has consumed me and this is my goodbye to you all so you know how I die, By the hands of suicide.