Fail

I don’t think there’s anything left I haven’t failed already.

 

I wrecked my grades starting sophomore year. I could easily have all A’s and B’s, but my level of motivation was slim. I completed homework, but never turned it in, I procrastinated until I had panic attacks, I ignored deadlines, and finally I stopped trying altogether. My mind told me, “Why try if you’ll never succeed anyway.” That’s when I shut off. Nothing mattered. Except for sleep of course…that was the most important part of my life: sleep and relaxation. Although it brought me little to no happiness, I spent my time rotting away, staring at the television.

 

I ruined my social relationships so quickly and easily that it was probably on purpose subconsciously. My mind said, “Why would you put in the effort to make friends and maintain relationships when nobody will ever put you first. No one can love you.” So I ignored calls, emails, and messages until the people that used to care didn’t bother trying anymore. When I was sad it was so much easier to act angry.

 

I sabotaged my health. It’s almost like I wanted to get sick. I refused to take medicine, I ignored the warning signs, and sometimes I was so sick of reality that I made myself sick just to escape. Sometimes I let myself be ill or even encouraged it just so somebody would notice. At least pity was better than nothingness. My irrational brain thought, “Maybe if you throw up enough, refuse to eat, faint enough times they’ll start caring.” The first time, I took thirty tylenol. I threw up for two days and told my mother that it must be the stomach bug. The next time it was 35 tylenol and 30 advil. In the back of my head, that second time, I wasn’t planning on it working. It didn’t. I threw up for a day and listened to my grandmother yell at me about how incredibly ungrateful I was. Yes, I get it: children are starving in Africa, but as selfish as it was, that didn’t matter to me. I would gladly give them everything I have to be happy. The third time I was desperate. I took all of my depression and OCD meds in addition to painkillers and homeopathic remedies. I didn’t necessarily want to die. I was afraid of that. I just wanted to sleep…for a really long time. Unfortunately for me, I got the opposite: chills and extreme shaking, heart palpitations and blurry vision. I could hardly walk. The next day, it was as if nothing happened. Nobody cared. Now I just felt stupider. I couldn’t even kill myself correctly.

The worst feeling is that I’ve failed my parents. While brother is a shining star, I am barely passing classes. I constantly pick fights with my parents. They having nothing to be proud of me for.

 

I don’t see a solution. I’ve thought of jumping threw my window countless times. I’ve literally researched sedatives and how to induce a coma. I’ve never told anyone. People have a tendency of drugging me and forcing me to talk to pretentious assholes whenever I decide to be honest.
I don’t think there’s anything left I haven’t failed already.

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