This goes along strongly with my book of poems... so.... yeah...

If you don't know.

I live with crap.

Because that's what I am.

Anyways.

I act bright and bubbly on here apparently... compared to how I really am. My friends I go to school with have told me that.

I also act with huge mood swings on here so that's wonderful.

In September I was diagnosed with depression.

In November Anxiety and Self Harm Tendencies.

Well.

That's wonderful.

I feel like that's become a label for me in an odd way.

I feel like sometimes that's all I am.

No matter how hard I try, no one seems to let it go.

Probably just middle school, but still.

At first... everyone was supportive.

Really.

Now...

At school especially I feel like I'm losing everyone.

Especially those closest to me.

Sure, I've made new friends, but they're slipping away just as quick.

And I'm not ready to let go.

Not at all.

I feel myself slowly fading from their minds.

Only it's not so slow anymore.

And then I disappeared.

That was it.

People have started telling me on a daily basis to kill myself, that I'm not wanted.

Yesterday they screamed it from across the room.

Today was my first day back from being sick without a field trip.

And we have an issue where nine people always try and sit at our eight people table.

Well.

This person immediately blamed me for coming back, said that everyone had forgotten I even existed, that it was a relief to them.

Sure, to him.

But one person went off on him how he doesn't even sit with us all the time and told him to shut up.

I appreciate that person.

He's become one of my closest friends even though I know I drive him insane on a day to day basis.

I act more put together than I am, that is the only thing I know.

And I act broken.

Today I did something stupid.

So we were switching classes and somebody shouted, "Where's Grace?"

And kind of as a joke but also being serious since I was right next to him said, "In hell."

The more I think on it... I feel like I'm there.

Absolutely everyday.

I'm as good as dead most days.

People say that they just want me to be happy.

and I feel like telling them at times that if that's true they have to let me go.

But also hold me tight because I feel so alone, and am loosing the last bit of strength I have.

The darkness I've encountered isn't normal.

It's not natural.

Not for any human.

These thoughts...

My mind....

It's not right.

But...

I can never tell anyone anything anymore.

I used to be able to go to people and tell them everything... now they won't listen.

I'm not sad.

I'm not sad at all.

People always ask me that.

And I always say I'm not.

For once, it's not lying.

I'm not sad.

I'm empty.

I'm alone,

And I'm afraid.

They say, "Follow your heart."

But what if my heart and my brain both were shattered into a million pieces?

I get lost trying to navigate through the maze of my mind.

And sometimes I walk towards the light only to be dragged back into the light even further.

Having anxiety and depression at the same time... it's the worst.

I could manage the constant depression.

But once the anxiety started it got a thousand times harder.

They're polar opposites.

It's always up and down, over and over again, in an endless cycle, and the worst part is it's never predictable and never consistent.

I could deal with depression because it was consistent and predictable.

But now it's not.

The hardest part for me is my mind being so tired and wanting to stop all at once, but the anxiety that takes over. It makes me unable to stop, ever. Not even necessarily worrying, but just thinking. But mostly worrying.

When I can make my mind go blank enough to sleep even just a bit... I wake up and remember everything I tried so hard to forget.

And then having to fake a smile to reassure everyone so I don't get dragged to another person who can "help me".

But the thing is I'm not as ok as I pretend to be.

And I don't know how I can be helped.

Sometimes I don't want to be.

I don't want to get better since the misery is putting me through so much pain, pain that's keeping me from doing anything worse because I'm getting enough to calm it all.

The oddest part is that it hurts to care for people.

It hurts more than anything.

Because I get screamed at by a certain person whenever I say anything that can be taken as suicidal.

People say that he's worried,
That they all are.

It doesn't feel like it.

It's hard knowing I love others a million times more than I love myself.

I hate to see others in pain,
Yet am putting them through so much.

But when it comes to myself...

"I'm fine."

I need a reason.

More than this.

There was a time life was worth living.

Now?

I'm spending my days searching for a reason to exist,

A reason to make it another day.

Am I overreacting?

Sure.

Believe that, maybe it'll help you sleep at night.

But how can others sleep at night when I'm wide awake suffering this bad?

Physically, I'm always here.

But mentally...

It's rare.

It goes in phases where I'll be there for three days at a time then be far away for nearly a month.

I feel like I'm disappearing all at once.

Then stepping into the light...

Only to become scared and go back into the comforting darkness I've lived in for six months.

I've been in long sleeves for over four months.

I wore a T-shirt today...

For once.

But the entire day had a sweatshirt wrapped around my waist.

It's not so nobody sees.

I'm not concerned about protecting them.

I'm worried that it'll only cause me more shame.

That it'll only make me want to do things more often.

But let's be honest.

It's spring.

And I can't live in sleeves forever.

I would if I could.

But I can't.

The worst place I can ever be is my own head.

Which hurts.

I told somebody I was used to pain on accident one time.

When they said that something that happened must've hurt.

I said it was ok.

I was used to the pain.

What I didn't say is that I wanted it.

I cry away all the pain at night so I can make my chest sore with laughter, and my throat hoarse from talking, and my cheeks stiff from smiling.

Then as soon as I step through the front door I crumple to the ground.

I worry that eventually everyone will see me the way I see myself.

And all my fears feel like they're coming true.

I apologize constantly, most of the time for who knows what.

But deep down I'm starting to realize.

I'm sorry for everything I've ever done.

I'm sorry for being your friend.

Because it's only caused you so much more pain.

I'm sorry for feeling, I'm sorry for smiling, I'm sorry for how screwed up my mind is.

I'm sorry for it all.

This feels so odd, because for so long I've been watching and observing, teaching myself to fake it all.

I haven't had an outbreak in a while when I used to have them everyday.

Because I could tell people.

Now I really want to tell them about my feelings and thoughts.

But I'll only get knocked to the floor.

Other times I wish I had never told them anything.

But I knew that even if I denied it all, people were realizing it all at the same time.

There used to only be one person who could get me to eat, ever.

Because he tried so hard he made me feel bad.

Now... sure I eat a bit more.

But he never tries anymore.

He just runs and avoids and doesn't talk.

And makes me worry over it all.

But I know it's because it looks like I'm better.

I just want to tell him a million things all at once.

Don't worry about me.

I'm completely fine.

Just please never look into my eyes.

They hide my pain.

They hide my sorrow.

They hide it all.

I'm slowly destroying myself and nobody knows how to stop me anymore.

The saddest moments have been when I've realized that the people who gave me the best memories feel like just that.

Memories.

I want so much help.

But I don't want to be saved like the broken person I am.

And that's hard.

Because now nobody will even help me pick up my pieces.

Depression is a war with yourself.

You battle and fight every moment of every day.

And you either kill your brain doing so,

Or your brain kills you and forcing you to do the same.

And sometimes you have help.

But most of the time you don't.

Do you ever wonder how much you are in peoples' lives?

I'm always worrying that they don't ever talk about me, don't mention me to anyone.

Don't ever think about me.

Do they ever worry about me when I'm not around?

Today my neighbor who I've known and been friends with since I was three told me he thought I had died over the past week.

But he never texted.

Never checked on me.

Nearly nobody did.

Especially the first few days.

On the fifth day... yeah they started to text.

But other than that?

I felt unwanted.

Because sometimes that's exactly what I am.

And it's so obvious at this point it's sad.

I don't want to know how many times I go through peoples' heads.

Because I know I'll be terrified at the number.

No one cares until something dramatic happens.

But do they know how close it is to that happening?

I can't seem to let go, can I?

I have to remember.

Because memories are all I have left.

Just because my eyes don't water in front of you doesn't mean it doesn't hurt me.

Words are often knives.

Each one leaving a new scar.

Each one relieving me in a way.

Because at least you're being honest.

For once.

I felt for the longest time when this all started that I had lost something.

Something important.

Now I've realized it.

I've lost myself.

I don't control my thoughts anymore.

They control me.

When it all takes me over I have to shut the door and let it come, it's how I've survived.

I can't do that anymore.

I'm being watched.

I can feel it.

People don't understand what goes on when I have panic attacks.

They don't understand that it's always because of something people have said now or in the past.

Ever.

And that... is hard.

Because they don't understand.

When I'm already over the edge and then you tell me that you don't care and you hate every inch of me...

You don't know how it feels.

You don't know how it feels to not be able to think... not be able to see... not be able to breathe.

To feel like you're losing it all in an instant.

And to have everyone turn away.

The first one wasn't as bad as it's gotten.

December.

One person knew what was going on.

He turned away.

I get it.

He was scared, I was scared.

At least probably.

He was the person I went to every time anything happened.

Now he turns away at every turn.

I remember I used to stay up til three in the morning talking to people.

Now everyone dismisses me with a wave.

When I explained this all to someone he told...

It was rough.

But I remember telling him that my mind immediately made me walk to those I knew wouldn't hurt me before emotionally, mentally, and physically pivoting and collapsing.

And at the time, it was mostly just him.

And it still is.

With two other people.

This person told me that he isn't I didn't have to go to him... in fact I shouldn't.

He said that he would help me... no matter what.

Well.

I'm still waiting for that help to come in a way.

While he's been great to me, even though I know he doesn't care for me that much... I can't help but want more sometimes after meeting people who are good to me...

And then they leave.

And I'm left with people who I can't live with.

It's time for me to be happy.

Whatever that means at this point.

But all monsters are partially human.

And at this point... I excel in being partially human.

The human part makes mistakes at every turn, the monster destroys everything in its path.

I remember my teacher saying something yesterday that made me think... but not in a very good way.

It was along the lines of...

Sometimes the hardest things you go through are the best things that happen to you because they make you stronger and prepare you for the future.

Well all this is doing is breaking me quicker and quicker.

What if there is no future?

Then what is this all for?

What's keeping me alive is those few people.

Because I'm scared for them.

Even though I doubt they'd be broken be anything I could ever do...

What if they were?

and so...

I fake it all everyday.

But the thing is the only thing more exhausted than fighting your own mind and madness is pretending like you're ok on top of all of it.

Sometimes I get talked to about not accepting compliments...

But the thing is I can't.

Because I can't be lied to.

I can't.

And it feels like such an obvious lie.

I remember one day... it was one of my worst...

I screamed at this close of friend of mine that I needed him to lie to me.

He couldn't figure out what I meant because I choked on the words that were supposed to come after.

I wanted to say so many things.

I needed him to tell me it was ok, that he was here for me, that we'd get through this together, that people care, that he cares...

I needed him to lie to me.

I wish someone would lie to me.

I wish someone would notice my silent screams.

Because they never stop.

People think it's annoying how I'm always complaining.

That I need to be more positive.

I know.

Thank you very much.

I know what's wrong with me.

But I can't stop.

I've lost myself and my control.

I can't do this on my own anymore.

And now I can't help but wonder....

Would you care if you woke up tomorrow morning to only find that I was no longer breathing?

How do you explain to someone that all you want is for it to stop... and how do you explain what that means?

Have you ever sat with a group of friends, especially close ones, and realized that you're the least important? The most unwanted? Have you ever known it wouldn't really matter if you weren't there?

Sometimes I just stare at people.... silently begging them to talk to me.

Silently begging them to ask me if I'm ok and when I say that I am...

To hug me and hold me tight and say that you know I'm not.

And to not tell me to stop looking at them.

I don't blame you for leaving, I don't blame you for judging.

I would do the same any day.

It's wonderful how it seems you all stick around.

After all this time.

I'm broken.

You'd do me a favor to help me give up, yet you don't.

At least some of you.

You don't realize that.

But you don't realize that that'll never be enough.

I miss you, but I know you don't care.

And that hurts.

I miss how it was.

I've cried countless times wishing I could go back and fix it all, trying to fix it all.

But I don't know how.

I can't stop thinking about you.

And it hurts me.

Sometimes I can't help but stand in front of a mirror and think...

Why in the world would anybody ever love you?

I used to lie every second.

To you.

To myself.

Now it's sometimes triple that, sometimes half.

But you don't realize anymore than you used to.

Everybody hates me and it's all my fault.

I don't think people understand how hard and stressful it is to explain to others what's going on inside your head when you haven't a clue as to the answer yourself.

You have no idea how many hours you kept me up every day.

Do you?

You have no idea what you've done to me.

Everyone tries so hard to heal me.

But ends up leaving me more broken than before.

I like to be left alone...

Because then I don't worry as much.

But when people don't notice I'm not there...

I can't help but feel hurt.

Even though it's entirely my fault anyways.

Just when I think it's all looking up...

It all comes crashing down enough further.

If my absence doesn't mean anything... especially to the point where you don't even notice it and can't help but let out a breath of relief...

Then I maybe I have no meaning in your life.

I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry everything I do is not good enough.

I'm trying my best.

But it'll never be even close to the person next to me's best.

And that hurts.

It all hurts too much.