18 Years of God Damn Bullshit: A Memoir

Story

((TW - suicidal ideation in detail, gore, please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics))

2 - 11 - 2021

They go to sleep, then I come out of my room and reheat my coffee and drink it in the corner.

I go back to my room, clean.

Throw things away, take down blankets from the window, fold them.

Put my dirty clothes in the laundry bag, hang the rest.

Organize my bin of belongings.

Take out my letters from my mother and keep them close.

I think

stare

talk

whisper

I write my words to those that mattered to me, and fold them into neat envelopes I will not deliver.

I sit on my bed, and hold the blade to my arm.

Left one first, naturally.

The adrenaline builds as I remember, I haven't showered.

I get a clean pair of underwear, and a new shirt, because I deserve it.

I brush my teeth, twice, floss, mouthwash.

Wash my hair, my body.

I shave my face, eyebrows and lip, making sure to catch the stray hairs on my chin I wish would grow longer and thicker.

I finish and return to my room.

First wrist.

I hold the blade over it, thinking about the possible regrets if I live.

I stop thinking about living and slice.

Not hard enough.

I go again until the muscles and tendons are exposed.

I debate the blade's tip over the blue wire, and decide to cut.

Blood spurts out, warm and heavy.

I do the next arm.

I forget what mornings are like.

I forget yellow curtains and go for it the same.

Numb to the pain.

Sick of being tired.

Sick of writing pain.

Too often have I kept myself alive for other people.

I'm so tired.

I cut the next blue wire.

I lie down, the red staining my bare mattress.

I get cold, tingly.

I think of death.

Pray for it.

"Make me an instrument of your peace."

"Let me seek not so much as to be consoled as to console."

"To be loved, as to love."

Words, thoughts fail as I get sleepy, colder.

It will come for me in hours time.

I can wait.

I have waited a lifetime.

In the end, I do not see my mother, or my grandparents, or a light.

I do not feel.

I do not die for any good reason, I just die.

The End.....