I tried hiding behind these bars. I tried avoiding people around me because I don’t know why I just get irritated by them. I don’t know if it’s me or them. I like to stay in the dark. I loved being alone in my bedroom. I just feel lost or empty. Those things I enjoyed doing before, now I feel I can’t do it anymore or maybe something was just lacking inside me. I keep forgetting things. And I get lost in my own world. I feel tired all the time and, tired of all the things.
My thoughts were like heavy dark clouds hiding sun and sky, making the day look gloomy and threatening. Smiling was difficult for me but still I fake laugh. I can’t eat and I can’t sleep. I’m not doing well in terms of being functional human, you know? I know, a lot of you cared, but just not enough. I was constantly torn between killing myself and killing everyone around me. Then slowly I started hurting myself. I’d blame myself for everything that goes wrong. And then I felt like I am bad luck to everyone’s life. I waste at least an hour every day lying in bed. Then I waste time pacing. I waste time thinking. I waste time being quiet and not saying anything because I'm afraid I'll stutter. I was drowning but that’s not what I really wanted. I tried coming out from this situation but only me myself was not enough to get through it. I just needed someone to pull me out but no one was there for me. Gradually, things went worse than I thought. Did I really want to die? No one commits suicide because they want to die. But why did I do that? Because I wanted to stop the pain. The pain of me being in between drowning and sinking. And I lost.
My thoughts were like heavy dark clouds hiding sun and sky, making the day look gloomy and threatening. Smiling was difficult for me but still I fake laugh. I can’t eat and I can’t sleep. I’m not doing well in terms of being functional human, you know? I know, a lot of you cared, but just not enough. I was constantly torn between killing myself and killing everyone around me. Then slowly I started hurting myself. I’d blame myself for everything that goes wrong. And then I felt like I am bad luck to everyone’s life. I waste at least an hour every day lying in bed. Then I waste time pacing. I waste time thinking. I waste time being quiet and not saying anything because I'm afraid I'll stutter. I was drowning but that’s not what I really wanted. I tried coming out from this situation but only me myself was not enough to get through it. I just needed someone to pull me out but no one was there for me. Gradually, things went worse than I thought. Did I really want to die? No one commits suicide because they want to die. But why did I do that? Because I wanted to stop the pain. The pain of me being in between drowning and sinking. And I lost.
