10:32 P.M.
I pace back and forth from one side of my room to the other with a pair of sewing shears in my left hand.
It’s raining.
How cliche, I think, that it would rain tonight.
I listen to the pitter patter of the raindrops
Falling against the earth.
Falling out of the sky to their death in my driveway.
I yearn to be a raindrop.
It’s as if my mind were controlling the view from outside my bedroom window.
My knees are shaking but I keep pacing.
Trying to clear my mind.
But my thoughts are drowning me.
Every time I almost reach the surface, another wave comes by and knocks me back under.
Another wave.
A wave of hating myself
11:46 P.M.
Hating my past.
12:16 P.M.
Hating my future.
1:09 A.M.
Hating hating.
Pitter patter.
Red dots begin to adorn my white rug
As the sewing shears meet my right arm
Over and over.
Pitter patter
My mom knocks lightly on the door
“Gracie, are you okay?”
2:14 A.M.
The knocks aren’t light anymore
Pitter patter
The red spots are multiplying
Pitter patter
“I’m fine, I’m just tired.”
Pitter patter
I’m worthless, I’m nothing
3:22 A.M.
Pitter patter
The rain keeps falling
Pitter patter
But it can’t rain forever.

I know that one day it will get better. It’s all anyone knows how to tell me. They see the scars on my wrist, they tell me never to do it again, to stay strong and be happy. Do they think I’m like this by choice? Of course I’m trying to never do it again, I’m doing my best to stay strong but I just can’t feel happiness. I can’t even get out of bed in the morning. I’m always tired, but I can’t sleep. At night, I lay awake, with my eyes shut, and my mind just races, worrying myself to the point of hyperventilation. What if I fall asleep on my back and start vomiting? I’ll choke and die. What if there’s carbon monoxide in my house? I’ll be asleep and breathing it in. My family, my pets, we’ll all die. I was hoping that being on antidepressants would numb my worries. Not that they’d go away, but i wouldn’t feel them. I wish my mind could fix itself. But it seems like nothing can fix me. No medicine, no therapist. The pain never goes away. I’ve spent too long numbing my emotional pain with physical pain. It’s the only way I feel like I can escape the monsters in my head. I’m very ashamed by my scars, even more ashamed of the new cuts that haven’t even started healing yet. I’m terrified of myself, ashamed of myself, ashamed of my actions.

“She cuts herself for attention”
“She hasn’t been in school because she’s in a mental hospital”
“I’d laugh if she killed herself”

I am nothing more than a joke to the girls at my school. They watch me. And they laugh. I stare at my feet and shake uncontrollably as I walk down the hallway. But today I’ve had enough.
“Shut up!” I snap. “I’ve had enough of all of you mocking me. As if the way I feel is funny. You have no idea what I feel. You have no idea about anything. You make me want to die. You make me hate myself. All of you.”
“She’s such a freak,” one laughs and soon enough the rest chime in as well.

I try my best to fake it, like I’m wearing a mask. A fake smile and everyone thinks you’re fine. But then I break down. I break down and putting that mask back on gets harder and harder every day.

As the water slowly rises around me
I like to pretend I’m sinking to the bottom of the ocean.
My favorite noise is the sound of being underwater,
When everything else surrounding you is silent.
When your ears start ringing and all you feel is the water around you
And the bottom of the bathtub barely touching your back
I try my best to keep myself under
Coming up for air will break my internal conversation
And I can’t afford that
I can feel the darkness spreading rapidly through my head
I begin fighting the urge to come up
Not for the sake of concentration, but it goes much deeper
Deeper into the water
I’m at the bottom of the ocean
That’s what I tell myself
I’m fading away
But then i lose control and my body jerks up and I emerge from a watery grave
My body needs air desperately
So desperately that I can’t fight it
But after a minute of deep breaths and shivering
I slide back down to the ocean floor

Lately I’ve stopped wanting to do all the things that I love. I haven’t been in school in two months. I can’t even get up in the morning. I just want to sleep my life away. I feel worthless.

Sometimes I think of myself as a tree
A tree that never grew quite right
With a spine that grew crooked
From sitting in fetal position for too long
A lack of sunlight
Years of hurricanes and floods
Years of crying
In an empty forest
And one day I’ll fall
And nobody will be around to hear it
Too scared to make noise

When I was seven I planted some green bean seeds in my backyard. My mom said that I shouldn’t water them so much or I’ll drown them. And she was right, they never grew. I was a plant murderer. But in all honesty, I hated green beans. I just liked feeling like someone relied on me, I liked filling up my Sesame Street watering can and trudging outside and watering my green beans. I felt special.

I’m constantly drowning in my thoughts. I take myself over my head and then I can’t breathe. And then I get that feeling, that I’d be better off dead and in peace than alive and suffering inside my own head. I’d be better off if I could escape.

There’s a small part of me that knows
I’d be leaving a lot more behind than just my fears
What about my dreams and my best friends
And all the colors I haven’t dyed my hair yet
What about waiting for when it will get better?
Yes, one day it will be better

I really am trying to get better. Some days are so much easier than others. Even though last night I gave into my urges and I’m so disappointed that I couldn’t control myself better. But what I’d like everyone to realize is that I struggle every single day with my emotions. I fight with myself every day because part of me wants to get out of bed and go to school but it’s so hard to fight my depression. I can’t just “try and be happy” like so many people have told me to do. It’s going to take time, and even if the waves keep crashing, and I keep slipping back to the ocean floor, I’ll keep fighting to get to the surface again. I’ll keep swimming.