I asked him if he would care if I killed myself. He paused for a short second and said ‘no’
I don’t know if that was just because he thought I wasn’t serious about wanting to die or if he really wouldn’t care if I was gone.
You didn’t care, so I took that blade and pushed it deep into my skin not caring just like you! The blood began to flow out of my arm like a waterfall, uncontrollably. I’d lost all hope, my body became numb and was slowly shutting down; I’d had even given breathing, so I stopped. Now my cold lifeless body lay there; blood stained. Now you care! Now you want me to stay. Now you think I was beautiful and that I was everything you ever wanted. But, now is too late, NOW I am gone. Why couldn’t you have just cared before? Because NOW you can continue to live your life everyday, while I ended my sooner than the ending was suppose to come. Don’t wait till I’m gone to show you care, to support me through my depression. It’s a real disease and it’s bloody hard! Everyone thinks I’m fine because I hide it; I hide it because society makes me feel ashamed to have such an illness. Because according to society ‘people have been through much worse’ and ‘I’m only sad now’ yes people may have been through worse, but you don’t even know my full story, and everyone deals with things differently. With depression there comes good days and bad days, mainly bad but sometimes you never know because you only see what I allow you to see. But just because you don’t see me curled up on my bed crying trying to fight the urge of harming myself, doesn’t mean that I am not depressed.