Need Help

Copyright, Anne

I’m new here. I’m Anne, seventeen. I’ve had depression since I was thirteen, have been cutting since I was fifteen, have been burning since I was sixteen and have been hitting and biting since I was seventeen.

Well, last night I wanted to kill myself. I felt like an empty bottle. Well, an almost-empty bottle. When you drink a beverage to all but the last drop. My willpower was — and still is — the last drop in that bottle. I’ve used up all my willpower but that one drop.

I know that one of these nights I will kill myself. I just know it. I can feel it.

I’m so tired of always having to hide everything. My scars, my cuts, the blood. The emotions, the feelings the many oceans of tears. The memories, the pain, the sorrow.

If it weren’t for my friends — the ones online — I’d already be dead. If it weren’t for my amazing willpower and strong determination, I’d already be dead. But I honestly don’t know how much longer I can hold out. I really don’t.

As much as I care about my friends, I’m always not cutting for them. Not for me. I feel like what I have to say, what I say, what I feel — all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I’m drowning, and people are trying to save me. Well, in a weird way, I want to keep drowning.

I’m really not trying to push people away. If I were, I wouldn’t have typed this in the first place. I’m just very, very confused.


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