Time To Vanish

I think tonight has been a perfect example of this. My father, who is bipolar and has PTSD, has initiated a fight with my mother, the one who has severe anger management issues. I did not go to school today so I’m writhering in pain at the moment while writing this. My dad keeps making excuses as to why he does not have access to social security money…cancer (no.), teeth (what?), and the car (ahaha.). THE CAR. THE CAR. THE CAR. THE CAR. That stupid car that i gave up my bed for….I need a new bed since my sister’s and mine are broked but NO….let us fix the magical car first. LET’S TAKE THE METRO YOU LAZY FAMILY OF FAILURES. Not my sister, she has disassociated herself from failure and i commend her. I, however, feel like a failure…I have depression….15 college letters? A leadership opportunity? Trip around the world? “You are a failure” Why? “Look at your life, what have you accomplished?” I don’t know anymore. Enough with that, my parents are fighting about the financial hardships we face…no car…no money…no SSI…no nothing. Our lives revolve around that car? NO. I’ve taken the train and bus and OH HEY LOOKEY HERE…IM ALIVE. I’ve decided that I will kill myself one day…maybe one day where I accomplished so much just to spite me parents…Look what you made me do…..Look….I will not do it now though. My friends may miss me…but more importantly, I do not want my sister to wake up looking at a dead body…I will never hurt her like that.

Bye Bye…

I dreamt about someone driving me to the golden gate bridge and just being left alone there. Then I walked on the bridge and slowly inched my way toward the barrier…using my strength to sit on it. Then standing, feeling like I was floating. As my feet searched for a surface to stand on, I walked on air if only for a second, until I was cascading down into water. It engulfed me and although I’m an excellent swimmer I chose to die. It was morbid, it was beautiful.

The real reason I don’t want to celebrate my birthday anymore? Last year….I was going to commit suicide on my birthday. No matter how sick that sounds….I was ready to die. Now the mere thought of having anyone try to acknowledge my birth is sickening. I don’t want anyone to celebrate my life if I don’t even want it myself. I need to make myself miserable to force the thought that I don’t deserve happiness on that day and around that day. I will never change my mind.