WARNING- Suicidal Thoughts
I’ve known there has to be something different about me for a while now. Something was always hanging over me these past few years, especially recently. When I was younger, I was never like that. I was a confident kid, I never bothered about the way I looked because I thought I looked normal. Looking back at old photos, I know I didn’t, but did that matter? I wish I had that version of me back, when I didn’t care about what anyone else thought about me, or about how I dressed, or about boys or bitches at my school, none of that ever mattered until high school came around.
I’ve felt there’s always something new that’s wrong with me, some insecurity I’d notice and try and hide. Things like being too skinny or having a weird face shape, things I didn’t see at first, then saw on pictures, then gradually became all I could look at in the mirror. It slowly started seeping into my social life as well. I have one friend who I always had good banter with, until I starting taking appearance jokes more seriously, and then it wasn’t funny to me anymore- but I still nod and laugh, like it’s a normal thing. It was a normal thing. There’s something wrong with me to feel like this all the time I know it.
I wanted to kill myself. I still do sometimes. I’m not particularly smart or particularly pretty or talented, so the chances of me making it in life are pretty much next to none. So sometimes I think it would be better, but I can’t explain why or how I started feeling like this. I’ve researched the most painless ways to kill yourself, but 40 redirections to helplines later, I gave up on that. I know it’s a coward move, but if I die, I don’t want to die mangled, disfigured and in pain. It would probably be more respectful to family and friends to die peacefully.
All this talk about death is scaring me. I’ve never put any of these thoughts down on paper before, so I never realised how abnormal they actually are. I thought it was normal, I thought everyone thinks like that, that I’d never go through with it. I didn’t think there was everything wrong with it. It gets undermined a lot within the internet, what with memes and self deprecation humour, so I thought if they think like that, it’s normal for me to think it. I hate the body I was born in, I’m so close to having my Dad’s face I look like a deformed carbon copy of him from certain angles, and whenever I do see it, it reminds me of what happened to him in 2018 and how he was left behind in the 2010s decade just like I should be left in 2020. When everyone else was celebrating and wishing each other happy new year, I was crying in my room listening to voice messages of my friends saying how grateful they were. I’m grateful for my friends, but they wouldn’t understand any of this, and I’m not prepared to say anything anyway. I should probably share how all this happened.
Like I said, I was a confident kid until high school years came. In my first year there, I tried wearing makeup. Biggest. Mistake. Ever. When I removed it on days when I wore it, that was when I started to see the imperfections it covered. That was when it all went wrong. I discovered Instagram, and started posting things there, but in most of my then-recent selfies I was wearing pretty heavy makeup.
I wore it every day to school. I still do. None of the problems in my face seemed visible before, then it was almost like they magnified. I’m not sure if it was my face that changed or me.
This has got worse since then. I don’t leave the house without makeup on, ever, not even for a 5 minute trip to the shop. Other people’s opinions mean so little in my life and yet they mean so much to me, I can’t explain it. Putting it in words on a screen sounds both stupid and scary, I’m finally realising how toxic my mind is but I won’t stop, just because I know it’s happening doesn’t mean I’m able to stop it.
This issue continued but progressed to my body. That wasn’t good enough either. I’m a plain, average height skinny girl. literally nothing special here, no defining features, nothing. My school uniform hangs off me like a curtain, my whole form somewhat resembles an ironing board and my face isn’t anything special either.
For a time, this was all I could think about. I still think about it regularly. Too regularly than I like. I even downloaded a workout app, which for me made things worse in a way. When I didn’t use it, I was yelling at myself inside my head to not be so lazy and do something about it because nobody will like me otherwise, but when I did use it I felt hopeless when I couldn’t do one of the things it asked me to. So I guess I’ll ask again
Am I normal?
Piece Of Mind 