stay, for a little longer. just to see.

It’s always a step forward and ten steps back. My life nowadays takes me back to middle school, where fights would happen on the bus and I would stare out the window the entire hour to school.

I would constantly think about dying.

But I thought I was getting better. Those thoughts didn’t come for a couple of months. I feel a little more at ease, until that day this past September where I reverted back to my old habits. And that’s when my life slipped out of my hands. Relationships ended. Tears shed. Mental breakdowns, more than I can comprehend.

Now, I think about the distance between my balcony and the ground. How many times I have to bang my head against the wall until I don’t feel anything. How many pills I’ve overdosed on in the past and how many “friends” have found me passed out in bed. How high do I have to be to feel like I’m in free fall forever. Heck, I sat up in my bed this morning and didn’t feel anything. I was numb at first, now I’m nauseous.

I think about that potential one second in the air where I finally feel free. I think about all those times I was drunk and climbed up on the balcony ledge saying I wanted to fly, how everyone just laughed and thought it was cute, but in my heart, I really meant it. I want to die because my mind isn’t calm. I have never gotten a full night’s rest and this just feeds into the psychosis.

I don’t know how others tolerate me. I’m thankful to have a best friend to talk to about these things. I’m thankful to know others care. But, even though I should be happy, I’m not and I don’t know why. As if there’s this switch in my brain to be okay, but after nine years, I still can’t seem to find it.

I’m exhausted and I can feel the demons rising back up. I haven’t found my reason to be here yet, but I guess I’ll stay, just a little longer. Just to see.┬áJust to see…

j.t. // “stay, just a little longer. just to see.”

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I guess we are done

I cannot fathom how we used to be so important in each other’s lives, but now we don’t even talk, or look at each other.

And every glance at you hurts a little more each day. Every time I hear your name, I get crushed and hide a little more.

You called me an important person, but did any of this matter? Was it just something you said?

Because as I stand here, I care an awful lot about you and I try so hard to talk. So why am I invisible? Why can’t you care even a little? Why can’t my presence matter a little bit? Why can’t we be okay?

Thank you for making me feel unimportant.

j.t. // “I guess we are done”

unfinished suicides

I straddle that fine line between life and death. Some days, I would stand on rooftops and just admire the amount of free fall to the ground. Some days, I would cry in the bathroom for a couple of minutes, come out, resume my friendships, and pretend everything is fine. But every day, I put on some sort of face. And lately, I’ve been more irritable; I don’t respond to messages; I skip classes; I don’t study. I look in the mirror and hate the person that I see, and every day is just another day to struggle through.

People walk in and out of my life like it means nothing, like I have no affect, desire, or care. I’m pushed off to the side and suddenly, some close friend I have becomes a stranger to me. I’ve had so many people walk out of my life. I can’t believe I still haven’t figured out how to make my friendships last.

I hate being the one that’s brushed off.
I hate being treated like nothing.

I put on a disguise of a better version of myself every day so people aren’t inclined to walk out of my life. But now, I just want to shut everyone out because obviously, I”m nothing.

j.t. // “unfinished suicides”

I’m always the one left off the guest list

I think the worse feeling is realizing that you aren’t enough.

That you don’t do enough. That you cannot fulfill the happiness of someone else.

I live my life for others, but I feel like I could disappear and no one would notice. And these past couple days I have found myself standing on top of buildings and bridges and not even realize how I got there.

I am sorry I can’t matter. I am sorry I don’t come to mind. But if I can’t be enough, I don’t know what else to be.

j.t. // “I’m always the one left off the guest list”

nothing really lasts

Eight years ago changed my life.

And I’m frustrated because I haven’t been able to recover from what happened and this has affected my actions. I am tired of feeling this weight on me. I hate it and no matter how much I erase those memories off my skin, it is still there.

But I’m glad because all of this allowed me to have the relationships and friendships that I did.

I’m thankful for the people I have now in my life.

I just hope I can keep them.

j.t. // “nothing really lasts”