Why I Was Already Burned out at 15
Trigger Warning: Self-harm, depression, anxiety, suicide
Five years ago, I was in a very bad place.
At fifteen, I was a self-harmer. I struggled with stopping it — I was depressed, everything made me anxious. I struggled with going to school, with writing, with reading, but I miraculously made it to the honor roll.
At fifteen, I started to hate myself. My body. The way I write. Everything. I always thought that I was unlovable — worthless, and that I am better dead. All because my parent showed me that they did not love me.
They ignored me for a whole month; wouldn’t even look at me — it was like I wasn’t there. As a kid, I couldn’t take that. I was young, and I needed them. It was hard to wake up everyday at the same household and not even speak. I loved them and I always will, but I will forever blame them for all the opportunities I wasted because I was sad, and depressed, and felt worthless.
Fifteen is still an age for guidance, and since then, I just felt so… burned out. I was young, I shouldn’t have felt that way. I should have felt loved, and guided, and cared for. I stopped writing for years, I couldn’t finish a book — I just didn’t want to do the things that made me happy before. I had no motivation to live.
I made two suicide notes, and I kept all of my suicidal thoughts in a journal that I cannot find today. I would constantly self-harm whenever I had the urge to, I would think of all the other ways to destroy myself like binge-eating, smoking, and excessive drinking among others, and three suicidal attempts until a few months ago.
Today, I am 19. I go to therapy, I take medications, I am writing again. I am alive with dreams for the future. Ironically, I started to get professional help because my parents supported me.
However, it makes me sad to think of all the opportunities I could have taken when I was young — I could have won writing contests, I could have learned to play guitar and do sports instead of just spending all of my time wishing that I was gone. I was so young, I was full of dreams.
Despite all of those things, I am still here. My parents never apologized, but I have this urge to apologize to them because I feel like I also did not show that I love them, and I feel like I was too much to handle. But we never really talk about those things in our family.
Despite all of those things, I am still here. Looking back, I knew I didn’t want to die — I just wanted to be saved; to get out of that hellhole called my mind; to get that deep void out of my heart. I still struggle with them today, but I learned healthy coping mechanism for me to better handle and cope with them.
At 19, I wish I could go back and tell myself to keep on fighting, because the future turned out to be okay.
People weren’t kidding when they said that everything will be okay. At 15, I never believed it. But at 19 today, those are the words I truly believe in more than anything.
© 2020 Nat