My Suicidal Dream
2004-10-29, 11:44 p.m.

I try to remember the last time I laughed. It's been days. Perhaps even over a week. I try to recall if I smiled today. Then I remember I did, when my teacher asked me if I had my essay and I smiled weakly and told her no, sorry. I see how she looks at me. Teachers hate slackers. I use to be a suck up; feeding on when English teachers marveled over my creative writing. Now I say, oops, I forgot my essay, and put my head back down.
I try to remember the last time someone said my name. Melissa. Melissa. Melissa. That I draw a total blank on. The only person who talked to me today was my teacher. Twice. Asking for my essay then another time when she asked me to stop shuffeling my papers when she was talking to the class. Twice I fail. I haven't even talked to my dad for two days. I haven't had a conversation with anyone in weeks. I haven't heard my name from anyone's mouth in ages. I am a nobody. I don't exist.
I'm going mad.
I fantasize about ending my life. About taking my own life. I considerate it carefully weighing the pros and cons. I make plans. I think about how it would go. I wonder if these are just stupid fantasizes or if I'm being serious. Real or not they keep me going because I don't know if I can do this. I don't know if I can make it for another week. Another month. Till next year. I try to tell myself if I keep thinking about this long enough then I'll get the courage and I'll get the perfect plan. I look up sites online about body weight and lethal dosages of drugs. I bookmark the ones that have good information.
I argue in my head. I'm only 18. This is temporary. Who cares. Temporary or not life is stupid. No one will miss me.
As I was walking across the parking lot of my school the world all of a sudden seemed very huge and I felt very insignificant. I imagined my body disapearing from the parking lot and I realized how much I didn't need to be there. I didn't want to be there. I am the only person who is making myself to go to school and no one cares if I show up.
No one cares about me at all. No one would notice if I was gone. I don't make a difference in the world. In 50 years, dead now or dead then, I will be forgotten.
These are the thoughts going through my head.
I want to bring this up to Julio but he'll just give me the "life isn't suppose to be easy" speel or the "we all have our crosses" speech. And I want to scream at him That's so fucking easy for you to say when you go home to a nice family, a 6 figure salary, and no worries in the world.
I guess that's not fair. I'm sure he has his fair share of problems. I'm sure people are worse off then me. But right now, I can't describe why, I just feel like hell. I hate to put a neat little label on it and say it's "depression" because it's not.
My mom and I are fighting more lately. She is is constantly saying she can't deal with me. She is calling me a bitch and crazy when she is a bitch and crazy and I'm sick of it.
My dad ignores me.
I feel guilty. Guilty for living. Taking up space in this house, for consuming so much binge food, wasting so much money, mopeing around, not making something of myself. Whenever my dad looks at me I feel guilty for all of those reasons. He makes me feel guilty for being me. I am just a bad person. I know he hates who I am and I hate who I am.
I am alone. And it's all my fault. But it hurts despite that fact. And it hurts because of that fact.
I'm tired of this cycle of bingeing and purging. But I live it everyday and it's tiring. Tiring to make food, to go to the grocery store, the embarresment, to have my mom watch me make food, to hide it, to clean up, to vomit, the shakeing, the sickness, and how much I hate my body. The whole cylce is awful and I don't think I can ever get better and I don't have the energy.
I don't know. I'm just overwhelmed. Then I need to meet the demands of school and other nit pickey things.
Wouldn't it just be easier to disapear? One less person in the world isn't going to be noticed.