I want to die. I feel like my life has no meaning. These thoughts come rushing through my head countless times. Sometimes I really mean it and sometimes I don’t. I don’t think I can take it a day longer. I finally have the guts. Today I’m going to do it. I smuggle a knife and quickly run to my room. I lock my door and lie down on my bed holding the knife to my leg, yet I can’t bring myself to do it. I begin to get frustrated and mad. Why can’t I do it? I hate my life! Things never work out for me! What am I holding myself back from? I think about it. Did I really want to die? Did I really want myself to be nonexistent in this world? Did I really want to end my life now, at 17 before I go off to college? Marry? Have children? Did I really want to be THAT girl? The girl who took her life? I swore to myself that I’d never be that girl.

There’s no worse feeling then getting up in the morning knowing it’s just gonna be another day in my life with no meaning, feeling worthless and just depressed. Sometimes, more often than not, feeling sad for absolutely no reason. It doesn’t help with people telling me “don’t worry!” Or, “it’s okay! Cheer up!” It’s not okay. You think if it was as easy as that to be happy I wouldn’t do it? Do I want this raw, bitter feeling of emptiness inside of me? You think I like being miserable? No. But I don’t know what to do to change it.

From an outsider looking at me I look like this happy go lucky kid. One who’s smiling and who loves to make people laugh. Sometimes the ones who are so happy on the outside, are the ones who are hurting the most inside and whom need the most attention. One would never assume that I would be going through so much pain, strong enough to almost kill myself.

I recently saw this quote that stated “Having a rough day? Place your hand over your heart. Feel that? That’s called purpose. You’re alive for a reason don’t give up.” This got me thinking. I was put in this world for a reason. I don’t know what that reason is but I want to try and find out. I don’t want to die at 17 and miss out on the rest of life’s pleasures. What kind of idiot would want that? I wanted the death of my lack of control over a world that was so cruel to me. The death of those emotions that were eating me up inside and making me miserable. When I look back on it, did I really want to die? No. I just wanted to be me.