I Just Don’t Understand
I just don’t understand why people think I’m okay. I lay in bed just thinking that one day my life will go away. It’s hard to be happy like everyone else if life is just so hard for me. People make fun of me and call me names, oh God why is life so hard. I’m always depressed and it feels like nobody understands me. I tell everybody that I am fine but deep down inside I want to cry. I do everything to try to make the pain go away but it’s always there and never goes away. There is so much to say about what I’m feeling but I’ll keep it inside because no one will listen. I am broken inside and nobody can fix it. “I NEED HELP, I NEED HELP” is all I say, well in my head of course. It’s hard for me to tell people how I really feel because I am afraid they will judge me or not even care.
Throughout my whole life I only told one person what I go through everyday and how I feel everyday. I feel as though he is the only person who understands me and knows my past. I tell him every night what happened and it’s the same story but it gets more and more crazy and depressing. I find it odd that nobody but one person knows what I go through and they expect me to be happy with life and everything around them. My mother always says, “There are people and children out there struggling and going through way worse situations than you so why complain about life?” Yes, I agree that the statement is true, but I think everyone takes their problems differently. Some take things lightly and others don’t. People only know what you want them to know, I only tell one person my personal problems and I trust him to not tell anyone else.
If I Wrote A Note To God
Help my mother heal and recover fast and easy.
Help my sister take care of my nieces.
Help my brother receive the job he had an interview for.
Help me do wonderful in school this year.
Help me do excellent this season for basketball.
Help me become as wise as an owl in life.
Please Lord help me control my feelings.
Help me worship you daily, Amen
The Depressed Scientist “Picture This”
Bob was lonely; he never had any real friends. He was a creepy old scientist who sat in his house majority of the time and watched the days go by. The weird thing about him was that he collected brains so he could experiment on them, weird right? Behind his house is a very big shed full of scientific tools and also freshly picked brains. Behind the shed was a small science lab that was very old and dusty. He only cleaned it up when he was about to do a new experiment. To the right of the shed was a very small door, that door led to an underground tunnel. That tunnel led to another door and inside that door was a torture table he used that every day to collect his brains. After he was done in that room, he made sure he always turned the lights off before he left. To where you ask? Well, Bob liked to go on walks at night time when it was raining so he could prepare himself for the very next day.
Broken Yet Holding On
Hello. My name is Tynise, and I am going to tell you a little bit about myself. Growing up, I wasn’t the perfect young spoiled child everyone thinks I was. I have secrets. I still get in trouble and I don’t always get everything I want. I’m a very clumsy person. I don’t always get straight A’s, but I still try to get good grades. I’m far from perfect. I have a lot of flaws and I am different from everyone else. I come from a struggling family. We moved around a lot, and we sometimes don’t get along with our other family members. Everyone in the house is always busy so we don’t have enough family time. But once we do, we have a fantastic time together. We tell hilarious stories, maybe even terrifying ones. Our house is not that big, but sometimes it is packed.
Living in that house can be very irritating and sometimes depressing. Before my teenage years, I was always happy with everything that I got. I was happy about life actually. I wasn’t worried about boys or social media. My main focus was family and school. But things started to change when I turned fourteen. I had my own phone so I started using Facebook more. My mindset started to change I was focused on boys more. I started meeting new people; my grades started to go down; the new friends I made started to betray my trust. Then, eventually, things started going downhill. I turned antisocial; I became depressed; I was having trust issues and crying myself to sleep every night.
Everything was going wrong and it all was over a boy that I met. I was still in a relationship with my previous ex and then this random boy who went to my school started to have nice conversations with me, over text of course. We learned a lot about each other and started to text more; my ex broke it off with me and I was upset and the only person I can talk to about it was the guy. Eventually, we became very close, and he was like my best friend. I told him everything, and he told me everything. Then, I started catching feelings for him, but I didn’t want to tell him and ruin our friendship, so I kept it all to myself. He would always tell me about a girl he had a crush on, and I would be upset and jealous, because I was wishing he had those feelings for me, but I knew he didn’t. I helped him out in all his relationships, but deep down inside I was hurting. I wanted him all to myself.
Months went by, and I was a mess. He and I were always arguing about little things; he would start to ignore me. I would cry myself to sleep every night. It was to the point that I couldn’t take it anymore. I never expected to ever do this or to ever even think about it, and till this day I still don’t regret it. I started to overthink things and self harm was the only thing taking over my mind. I kept telling myself not to do it, but I didn’t know what else to do. I tried to overdose but that seemed to never work. I didn’t have it in me to hang myself or to jump off a bridge. So cutting was my next best option. That went on for two months. Eventually, I told my teacher about it and now we talk everyday about my problems, and after two and a half painful months, I don’t cut anymore.