teks: i want to die. (trigger warning/long post)i(14,m) want to die. or well, it feels like a need. i don’t like talking about problems that are wrong with me so i’m very hesitant to post this. i don’t like myself. i hate myself. i find myself constantly changing my personality and style just to make others happy so they don’t hate me. i hate the way i look. the way i talk, hell, even the way i breathe. i’ve recently started highschool. you may think i’m too young to be feeling this way but i am.

i’ve been feeling like this ever since i was seven, i believe. i drew pictures of it, thought about it, cried about it. i didn’t have a good home life and i still do. it’s better than it was. i grew up around people who constantly yelled and screamed about how they were in pain. i almost saw someone commit suicide with a knife in front of me when i was ten. kids around me would constantly complain about their issues to me or bitch at me with what was wrong with me.

all my friends have mental issues. they constantly push their problems on me and expect me to always listen to their venting. this has caused me to have severe trust issues and i have decided to cut most of my friends off in fear of them using me as a therapist. they think i’m happy and fine because i don’t talk about what’s wrong with me. i’m afraid of making friends.

i started cutting when i was twelve. every time i showered. every time i thought about it. it had been going on for a year and a half before i was forced to stop by mom. in the beginning, my mom started to make comments at me like ‘what? are you going to cut yourself now?’ or ‘jesus, it’s like i have to constantly walk on eggshells around you.’ 

i stopped cutting cold turkey a few months back. i was doing good until stress piled up. my friends were constantly screaming at me about how they wanted to die and how they had no one to talk to when i had been there 24/7, supporting them. i started to break down in front of my dad. calling myself stupid and hitting myself. i went home to shower and i cut myself. that was a month ago. i feel so ashamed.

i can’t kill myself. my mom said she would hate me forever. so it’s either keep living with the urge to die constantly or have your mom hate you forever. i want to die. life is stressful. i’m scared about my future. i don’t know what i want. i didn’t think i’d have to live past eighteen. college is scary and i would be in debt. i can’t even talk to people in public. i can’t talk to people through a drive through window. i’m too dependent. i’m trying to prepare myself but i can’t. 

i stopped seeing my therapist. i know she’s supposed to help and that’s her job but i felt so guilty pouring my issues onto some stranger i didn’t know. she probably didn’t want to listen to my shit. she was probably annoyed with me. that i’m complaining too much and my life is so much better than other people. that i should be grateful and happy i’m alive. 

people tell me i’m the only reason they’re alive and haven’t killed themselves. so what am i supposed to do? cut them off and stop being friends with them? kill myself and make them feel guilty? that second option sounds good and that’s terrifying to me. i don’t want to make people feel bad. i just want to leave. 

i had a friend(15,m) that took this far. he would constantly push himself onto me and say he loved me. he tried to kiss me when i didn’t want to. he said he was going to kill himself in the shower but the only thing that stopped him was thinking about me. in the shower. he showed me drawings of disturbing images. he showed me a box of animal bones he collected. we would have sleepovers and i would wake up to him spooning me, arms and legs around me tightly, i couldn’t move or escape. he would constantly try and touch me. he said he loved me everyday. what was i supposed to say back?? i was afraid. so i said it back and i think he believed it. he imagined us as two fictional characters? and he would project us onto them. he would make his character kill mine or rape mine constantly and be obsessed with mine. he introduced me to bad people. people i didn’t want to hang out with. people who were way older than me. i can’t go to certain areas without having a panic attack because what if he’s there? i don’t want to see him again. 

i’m sorry for posting this. i’m going to end it here because it’s gone too long. i don’t know what to do. sometimes i have happy future thoughts where i’m married happily and okay. most of the time, it turns into me having suicidal thoughts. i want to die. what should i do?
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