I didnt understand.

A Poem by Lotusxxo

Something I had written to Tell family how I felt but I chose not to because they are fighting their own battles as well.

I remember not feeling good enough for anyone or anything. I had no significance. I had no one by me while I laid in bed crying and wondering what I did for my kind heart to deserve this. I was about 10 or 11 and I remember feeling so much pain. Every time I gasped for air I felt my heart hurting. I didn't know what to do with myself, I knew it was messed up that I was so young and I was feeling this way already for too long. I couldn't deal with it, I didn't know how.. I hated not being able to do anything about it. I grabbed the sharpest thing close to me and without thinking I had made a mistake, not knowing what the hell I was doing. After getting some sort of satisfaction out of it I realized hurting myself was easier than I thought. I woke up the next day feeling unable to talk about what I had done, so at home I had no intention of covering up what I did as a cry for help. But instead, all that happened was I got yelled at, all that was said was "what the f**k are you emo now or something?!" That broke me. As if everything I was feeling was fake, unimportant, and just another trend for attention. That was the last time I had let Any cuts be visible. The first time I actually thought about how ending my life could be an option was thought about too calmly for too long. I had got together a little box with a ribbon around it. It had different pills from around the house and collected from when I had "headaches" and a blade from a razor. I had this and kept this because I knew that could always be an option, I knew the pain would get harder to deal with. I had written on the inside "if anyone finds the don't worry, I'm fine I promise" with a smiley face written at the end and the box decorated to not seem so bad if it were found. I remember over time as I was getting all that together I had started to write a goodbye note, mostly me apologizing for not being able to be the person everyone wanted me to be. It started off as one page but I read it everyday for awhile and each time I'd add something to it, eventually making it 5 pages long double sided. I finally felt as if I said all I could say but couldn't even begin to explain the pain I was having. I tried to drink anything that had a warning label. I laid in bed knowing that I didn’t take enough to harm me but I broke because I tried it anyway. But that was just one of the failed attempts, it was just a series of trying and then sleeping with no intention of waking up. I drank things that weren't meant to be consumed, woke up and had to act like nothing happened, continued with my day and carried on with life. But when my eyes opened that morning all I could do was cry, all I could hear was my heart still beating, and my chest feeling heavier. I told myself that I guess I could suck it up, keep trying even though I'd never get the best out of life, and I'd have to do it all alone. I'm sorry grandma, you didn't know this but I tried ending my life while living there. I couldn't handle it one night. The feeling of only being loved because they had to. There was a cabinet full of pills, different ones but I didn't have time to read them and pick so I grabbed a bottle of whatever I saw and swallowed them. I remember laying and looking at the ceiling thinking "this could be it, the last time I fall asleep" I remember looking at the things around me and also thinking "these could be the last things I see". After those thoughts I was content and sleepy. But I woke up... I didn't feel right. I was so angry with myself, how f*****g selfish I was. How could I have almost done that to you grandma. Once again I learned to live with my pain for awhile. I dragged it along like usual, by myself because no one took my pain seriously. The last time I tried to take my life it was pills from a friends house. I took about 15 prescription pills, I was almost sure it would've ended me that time, I even grabbed the only notes I had written before and had them out in my room. I fell asleep but I woke up up in so much pain. I didn't know what to do. I managed to have to guts to go out into tho living room where my grandpa was sleeping and woke him up. I told him what I had done. He got up and was wanting to take me to the hospital but as soon as my mom got up she was only concerned about the fact that it was the middle of the night and I woke him. She Ended up just getting mad and yelling at me, saying I was fine and to get back to sleep. By then I realized I was in this by myself, and always will be. Some of pains still there throughout the years, it never ended. I just got stronger because the difference between killing yourself and attempting to various times, is the thoughts each time you wake up and realized you failed, how you have to continue as if nothing happened because you have no one.