Basically, that's the question for me. I"m very unhappy right now, and have been for the past six years. Once middle school started, I was picked on by all of my peers. I had two friends, and I had known them prior to going to middle school. Also, my two friends didn't like each other. I cried at school at least weekly, and my grades suffered because I was so unhappy. Throughout middle school, my grades always hovered at Cs and D's, and I generally failed at least one class a semester. This has continued to this day, and I"m in high school.
I wish I could say that in the past six years, things have gotten better. Over the time, I've found things that made me happy, at least for a little bit. In seventh grade, one of those friends moved. In 11th, the other did. I made many other friends once I started high school, but at that point my view on people was hazed and I realized that most people only liked me because I'd gotten a lot more attractive.
So, I have literally no friends left, save for my girlfriend. I knew her in middle school, and shehad her share of picking on me, but so did my one of my friends anyway. I feel like happiness is right around the corner, but I've been trying for so long, and it's felt close for so long, that I question whether or not it is. It seems as if I'm just delusional, and any hope is falsely found.
So, my mom gave birth to me at 15, she was pregant at fourteen. She went to an alternative school to graduate, and did. Throughout that, as well as for the next eight years, she went through a lot. We were homeless for six months, we took the city bus everywhere, my father physically and verbally (not to mention severely emotionally) damaged my mother. Eventually she kicked him out of the house, after she had my sister, when she was 17, I believe. I then grew up in an area I'm not going to list here, but to put it mildly, it became strange not to hear sirens. Now, I'm not racist, but it should be acknowledged that black people tend to live in bad areas because they aren't taken care of by their government. I lived in one of those areas, and because I was one white kid in an apartment complex, not to mention the three other complexes just on that street, well, I got beat up a lot. My mom started using crank, and I learned to take care of my sister. Eventually, after my mom had two more kids, she got together with the last child's father, and when I was in 8th grade, they got married. I learned to like this guy a lot. I called him dad, I told him I loved him (and I do), and I considered him by all means my parent. Since they got married, we've lived in an actual house in a better neighborhood and I still didn't have friends. My little brothers are ten and eleven. My parents have been fighting a lot, and they've deicded the best route is to get divorced (the main problem is that my dad is an addict. He went to rehab for coke, crank, speed, heroin, PCP, and pretty much everything you could think of. He relapses every once in a while, but he tries hard, and I know it. My mom doesn't care though).
I think what they're doing is very irresponsible. I cannot stand what they're doing to my little brothers. For as long as they remember, he's been the father-figure in their lives, and now he'll be gone in about a week and they haven't fucking told them yet. It makes me so damn angry I can't see straight.
I'm constantly stressed out, I'm probably going to be homeless again, because my dad is the only source of income, and I"m going to get kicked out of my school if I start dropping behind too far. I go to a high school that requires interviews to get in, and they have huge programs to help you into college and all that jazz, but as things look, I'm fucked.
Anyway, I once tried to kill myself in middle school, and once more in ninth grade, and I've started thinking about it daily. When I see things in public, I don't think, "Oh, that's cool." I think more like, "I home a car swerves out of traffic toward me. I want to jump headfirst into the windshield."
Well, clearly I've become rather desperate. Currently, my girlfriend is the only reason I haven't killed myself, but...I don't know how much longer I can handle this. I don't want to hear, "You need change in your life." Actually, I don't even expect anyone to respond to this because I don't expect anyone to care enough to read it all. The reason I wrote out my life story is so that you can be a better judge on if I'm overreacting, in need of attention, might have mental disorders, etc. I notice I've been crying a lot more often lately. I don't know if it's because my dad is leaving me for the second time in my life, or because I'm still dealing with this fucking hellhole. I've literally prayed to God to kill me, dozens of times even. I'm angry at the world, I'd say. It isn't really just suicide; with how angry people make me, if I were going to kill myself, I'd take a couple dozen people with me.
So, I suppose I want you (thereader) to be my counselor. Please help me, please explain to me why I should live...I need a reason, because I can't think of anything anymore.
Any questions are welcome, by the way.
I wish I could say that in the past six years, things have gotten better. Over the time, I've found things that made me happy, at least for a little bit. In seventh grade, one of those friends moved. In 11th, the other did. I made many other friends once I started high school, but at that point my view on people was hazed and I realized that most people only liked me because I'd gotten a lot more attractive.
So, I have literally no friends left, save for my girlfriend. I knew her in middle school, and shehad her share of picking on me, but so did my one of my friends anyway. I feel like happiness is right around the corner, but I've been trying for so long, and it's felt close for so long, that I question whether or not it is. It seems as if I'm just delusional, and any hope is falsely found.
So, my mom gave birth to me at 15, she was pregant at fourteen. She went to an alternative school to graduate, and did. Throughout that, as well as for the next eight years, she went through a lot. We were homeless for six months, we took the city bus everywhere, my father physically and verbally (not to mention severely emotionally) damaged my mother. Eventually she kicked him out of the house, after she had my sister, when she was 17, I believe. I then grew up in an area I'm not going to list here, but to put it mildly, it became strange not to hear sirens. Now, I'm not racist, but it should be acknowledged that black people tend to live in bad areas because they aren't taken care of by their government. I lived in one of those areas, and because I was one white kid in an apartment complex, not to mention the three other complexes just on that street, well, I got beat up a lot. My mom started using crank, and I learned to take care of my sister. Eventually, after my mom had two more kids, she got together with the last child's father, and when I was in 8th grade, they got married. I learned to like this guy a lot. I called him dad, I told him I loved him (and I do), and I considered him by all means my parent. Since they got married, we've lived in an actual house in a better neighborhood and I still didn't have friends. My little brothers are ten and eleven. My parents have been fighting a lot, and they've deicded the best route is to get divorced (the main problem is that my dad is an addict. He went to rehab for coke, crank, speed, heroin, PCP, and pretty much everything you could think of. He relapses every once in a while, but he tries hard, and I know it. My mom doesn't care though).
I think what they're doing is very irresponsible. I cannot stand what they're doing to my little brothers. For as long as they remember, he's been the father-figure in their lives, and now he'll be gone in about a week and they haven't fucking told them yet. It makes me so damn angry I can't see straight.
I'm constantly stressed out, I'm probably going to be homeless again, because my dad is the only source of income, and I"m going to get kicked out of my school if I start dropping behind too far. I go to a high school that requires interviews to get in, and they have huge programs to help you into college and all that jazz, but as things look, I'm fucked.
Anyway, I once tried to kill myself in middle school, and once more in ninth grade, and I've started thinking about it daily. When I see things in public, I don't think, "Oh, that's cool." I think more like, "I home a car swerves out of traffic toward me. I want to jump headfirst into the windshield."
Well, clearly I've become rather desperate. Currently, my girlfriend is the only reason I haven't killed myself, but...I don't know how much longer I can handle this. I don't want to hear, "You need change in your life." Actually, I don't even expect anyone to respond to this because I don't expect anyone to care enough to read it all. The reason I wrote out my life story is so that you can be a better judge on if I'm overreacting, in need of attention, might have mental disorders, etc. I notice I've been crying a lot more often lately. I don't know if it's because my dad is leaving me for the second time in my life, or because I'm still dealing with this fucking hellhole. I've literally prayed to God to kill me, dozens of times even. I'm angry at the world, I'd say. It isn't really just suicide; with how angry people make me, if I were going to kill myself, I'd take a couple dozen people with me.
So, I suppose I want you (thereader) to be my counselor. Please help me, please explain to me why I should live...I need a reason, because I can't think of anything anymore.
Any questions are welcome, by the way.