I Wanted to Kill Myself

In the middle of my freshman year of university I wanted to kill myself.

I thought about killing myself, about not existing, at least five or so times a day, everyday. I thought of how it would be better not to feel anything or to even have a sense of consciousness... I felt constant anxiety. I felt alone.

I did reach out. I did try to find comfort in my friends. But they couldn't understand the situation I was in. I was often met with blank stares or blank promises that everything would be all right.

So what was the problem? Why did I feel like killing myself? Because of a bully.

She made my life hell. She verbally would attack me on Facebook along with her friends, she prank texted my cellphone, she posted rumors about me on online gossip boards for my school, and she would pass rumors around school. For example, she told people that I stuck anal beads up myself, that I was a whore, and she hoped that I would get an STD/STI; she posted links to my video blog on a school gossip board telling people how pathetic I was, encouraging people to watch it, ridicule it, and comparing it to a car crash that "you don't want to look, but can't help but watch." She truly put great effort into hurting me. That thought is what hurt the most: her extremely driven intent to cause me emotional harm.

I felt degraded by this girl and I felt like no one was out there to help me. I had friends and I had people that told me things would be all right, but for this specific situation I felt alone. I was alone. It hurt. I told myself that I hated her, that I wish she would just stop. But it didn't stop.

From September til October, I fell into greater depression until someone I barely knew reported me to my school about my pattern of depression. I was made to go to the psychologist on campus, who couldn't help but scribble notes on her notepad as I would pour my heart out to her. It felt good to talk to someone, but the feeling of comfort didn't last since her constant scribbling convinced me that her compassion wasn't genuine. I was nothing more than a case study to this woman.

After all that had occurred, I don't think I found immediate closure. I don't know if I ever will. I know that I've become stronger and wiser. At the same time, however, even the thought of seeing her still makes me slightly anxious.

As fate would have it, I ran into her today. I was walking with a friend and she was holding tightly onto her friend. I didn't recognize her at first, but in the back of my mind a sense of familiarity clicked. As soon as I remembered who she was, I couldn't help but look away. Her friend laughed as soon as they both passed by me...

After that encounter, I stumbled upon her Tumblr account as I was curious as to whether she has recently written anything slanderous about me. I found a blog post that showed me her vulnerable side. A part of her that I didn't know existed. She wrote about breaking down and all of her insecurities. It made me feel better after reading all she had written. I didn't feel better because I was happy for her suffering. I felt better because it made me realize that she was human too. It shattered this notion in my mind that she was some untouchable entity that could hurt me, but could not be affected herself.

No matter how much I could be upset with how she treated me, I couldn't hate her or find pleasure in her pain, even though she had driven me to thoughts about suicide. At this point, I finally could find myself to forgive her for all she had done. At the same time, I feel as if I've allowed myself to be liberated from the fearful grasp she had on me.

I'm glad I didn't kill myself.
____________________________________________
(The following is the entry written by her.)
Tonight I messed around with a substance I haven’t touched since last summer. I can’t say that I regret it, but it made me feel excited and nostalgic in some way before I even indulged in it. I’m not sure if it’s the steady approach of another year of school or the absence of my boyfriend, but the strange waves of my mood since he left for Florida some days ago have me dysfunctional and restless, but so so tired. Last night I was in the kitchen of the bar I work at, folding silverware, thinking about my life, or the lack of stability within it, and began to cry. Fifteen minutes later I was pounding shots like a champ and went home feeling pretty empty, despite the fact that I spent the next hour engulfed in a rather heavy conversation with a female ex-coworker of mine. I have always known that despite all of my battles, I am very lucky to have the life I live. It is true that the grass appears greener on the other side, but I think of all the people I know who are blessed in terms of money and familial relationships, and I realize I am so rich in experience, strength, and my ability to connect to the smallest and faintest of things. There are moments, however, like this week, when I crumble thinking about how 90% of my peers have no idea what its like to work 60 hours a week as a 21 year old full-time college student, so what - I can pay for my medical bills, receive an education for my ever promising future, and afford the rent to a studio I hardly live in? Meanwhile, I’m accused of being a golddigger and a heartless bitch roughly every 3 months without fail from a bitter kid who has not a clue who I am anymore, but somehow manages to dig up the most insane shit to slander my name a year and some later. I am in tears as I pour out my soul to this blog that I’m sure no one reads except for my crazy ex boyfriends and the insecure Asian girls who strangely envy me. Sometimes I can’t help but indulge in self-pity as I accept that this life is not at all the reality I had hoped for 4 years ago, this is not the reality I had known could even exist 4 years ago, and that my parents would be crushed if they learned that their little girl works until 5am every day because they finally lost the war. I think that it has be awful that I can’t seem to think of a person I could say all this too. My words fall not on ears but a screen, in a box with a scroll bar that keeps reducing in size as these terrible thoughts seize my mind. I wish my boyfriend was here to make me feel better, because as much as it pains me to say something so cliche and trite, his arms really are the safest place for me - where my only worries are whether or not all boys sweat this much and how late I will be to do my next ‘to-do’ if he keeps squeezing me this way. I think, if he were here, that he would scoop me up and ask if I wanted to eat ice cream. I know that I would hesitate a little bit in fear of seeming childish before I nod kind of excitedly. It makes me smile thinking about it, and again, I realize how lucky I am and want to delete this entire blog post all together. And as always, it all ends with me being a hopeless lover with a sleeve full of emotions. Sometimes I think I was born to be living in a world of rainbows and unicorns and I really hate myself. I still really hate myself actually, because if I hadn’t wasted the last hour analyzing my uncompromising feelings, I could have called him before he fell asleep and would feel at least slightly better about being a poor 21 year old who jaded long before her time. GOD FUCKING DAMMIT.

Holy Shit

Reality recently hit me. I'm basically an adult now. It didn't hit me until I went to my first day of school yesterday. For the previous two years, I've been living on campus and just coming back home for the summer. Now that I'm commuting from home, everything seems so different... more real.

I guess this is how the real world feels; living a few miles away from all your friends instead of living in the same building or even just across campus from one another. I no longer belong to that environment of quasi-reality, where everyone lives within this small bubble between childhood naivety and the unfiltered reality. It feels weird. It feels kind of sad.  I realized that childhood isn't a part of life that gracefully fades away, but something that you one day just realize is no longer a part of you. It's not scary, just sad and brings up a sense of nostalgia.

This year didn't start off as exciting as last year, and last year wasn't as exciting as my freshman year. We're truly adults now and it's surprising. In just a little over a year, I'll either have a full-time job or be living in the streets. One of my friends will give birth to her baby in less than a year... She'll be giving birth to the next generation, the generation that will take our place.  No more will there be three month summer vacations. Instead, there will be the two weeks per year sort of vacations.

Life shouldn't be like that. It shouldn't feel like this... Why does it feel like a part of my life is ending? I no longer feel the excitement I felt when high school ended, where I looked forward to what was coming next. Now, I just await the uncertainty of the coming tomorrows.

What my Man Will Someday be Like

Having this whole night all to myself, I had time to think, which led to thoughts about my future. Specifically, I started to think about my ideal guy... So here's what I came up with.

- He'll be all right spending a whole Sunday morning and afternoon just lying on the couch with me, while the sun warms our cheeks.

- He'll notice me crying when a movie gets really dramatic and/or romantic, but he won't tease me for it. Instead, he'd unwittingly pull me closer to him.

- When I try to grab hold of his hand in public, he won't pull away; he'll look at me, smile, and grab hold of mine.

- He might think that the things I say or do are kind of weird, but he'll laugh along with me anyways and realize that only those special to me can get close enough to see my quirks.

- He'll surprise me by remembering the things I say when I don't think he's listening (e.g., what I'm afraid of, my favorite movie, my favorite colors, my favorite places to go, the secrets I share with him.)

- He'll snuggle up right behind me, put his arm around me, and pull me close to him before we both doze off to sleep.

- He will sometimes call or text me just to tell me he was thinking of me just a few seconds before he called/texted.

- When we can't be together, he would make sure that we both have at least a few minutes to talk every night before we head off to sleep.

- He wouldn't mind letting me sleep in the passenger seat during long drives with him.

- He would trust me driving his car while he sleeps in the passenger seat.

- He'd be happy to take late summer afternoon walks with me while he puts his arm around my waist and hold me close to him.

- He'd be happy to take lots of pictures with me and wouldn't mind me taking lots of pictures of him to remember our special moments together.

- When I'm feeling down and upset, he'd be there to hold me close and tight, no questions asked, to let me know that I'm safe in his arms.

- He'll challenge me as a person, but never make me feel inferior.

- When we're mad at each other and saying things we don't mean, he'd lean in and kiss me to make me shut up.

- He would want to introduce me to all his friends and he would be proud to call me his.

- He wouldn't be afraid or too embarrassed to tell me he loves me whenever it crosses his mind.

A Future Deferred

For the past few days I've just been hibernating. This past week I have done nothing but watch television, eat, and sleep (excessively). Frankly, I feel guilty for not posting a blog in the past few days. I don't know whether it's because I just don't have anything to write about or I've just given up.

I often find myself struggling uphill in order to initiate a task (e.g., blogging, exercise, completing my study abroad essay) unless I get a surge of inspiration from something external; once I've actually gotten myself started, the momentum helps me complete the tasks at hand. I find this to be an unhealthy process because I am always tempted to just do nothing; I'm simply not a motivated person and I don't know how to change that. I want to be a motivated, task-oriented, and to actually get things done. I hate being pressed for time and that sense of pressure often being the only thing that pushes me to complete a task. I want to be driven by my own will and desire, not by some external stimuli or catalyst.

I've come to acknowledge goals to reach for that should fuel my determination and motivation to move forward in the world, yet it seems to not be enough. I'm afraid that this uncertainty in pressing on towards the future will lead to my very downfall. I have dreams, yet I doubt myself. This disbelief that lurks in shadows of my conscious mind seems to have an unmeasurable hold on me. I want to go to Italy next year, I want to have the (realistically fit) body I had always wanted, I want to succeed in school, I want to find a career that works for me. Unfortunately, I find myself so overwhelmed by the challenges that are keeping me from attaining those things; I'm tempted to just give up. It seems as if sleep and simple distractions have become a quick fix. Obviously, they're not actually fixing anything. Instead, they're distracting me from the guilt of being afraid of taking on the challenges before me. I'm leading myself to failure by simply not taking an active role in my life. What can I do? How can I fix this?

Resilience is the word that has been coming to mind recently; to be able to pick oneself up and try again may be the answer for me. Can I do it? Can I be resilient whilst having self-doubts still lurking in my mind? How can I conquer my own reflection?