When they look at me, all they see are the scars on my arms. When they ask me how I'm feeling, I plaster a fake smile on my face and say I'm OK. When I sob silently in the back of the classroom, no one notices. I can hear them whisper, "Emo" when I walk by, snickering behind my back.
They don't know how much I'm struggling to stay alive.
They can't see me in my room at night, when I cry so much I feel like I'll throw up. They don't know how I longingly look at the rows of pills in our cabinet, and how easy it would be for me to grab them and end my troubles.
How can they blame this on me?
Why would I choose to be constantly miserable? Why ever would I wish to have no real friends? Who in their right mind would love the thought of suicide, an option looking increasingly good to me? How can they possibly think I enjoy their cruel murmurings about my sullen appearance?

Why would I want myself to be so misunderstood?
MoonlitWalk MoonlitWalk
1 Response Nov 29, 2012

I am so sorry you are going through this. Please understand, you are not the only one that has experienced these feelings. My daughter was your age when she felt the same way. She felt very alone at school and also felt she had no friends. She learned that she didn't have the problem, but the people making fun of her did. She knew God loved her and wouldn't give her anymore than she could handle. She prayed a lot seeking help... There is a reason you were put on this earth, please do not quit on yourself. Please fight for your life and find the peace to go on. There is something very special waiting for you...