i will never be okay

trigger warning: graphic discussions of suicide, abuse, self harm.

i am not backdating this. i am leaving it as proof that i am not perfect. i am human. i fuck up. please be very very careful reading this.

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the reason i don’t talk to anyone is because there isn’t anything they can do.

the good of the many outweighs the good of the few.

we are going in circles, my mother and i

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when i was almost 12, i started cello lessons

no

earlier

when i was a small child, younger than i can remember being, i have been difficult. i have created problems. regardless of whether this is true, it is what i have been told. i have been the biggest reason why my father has abused my mother.

i am writing this and i cannot stop crying, huge sobs that shake my entire body and leave me exhausted beyond repair

and she defended me. she continues to defend me. she continues to blame herself instead of me.

i thought the cello would save me, take me away, give me a way out. it has become my prison.

my higher education degrees, the bmus in performance i have completed and the mmus in performance i am in the middle of, my parents have paid for these. and now that i begin to think, maybe needing to make money from my art will kill my love for it, maybe i should do something else to pay the bills and play the music i love, i cannot make this decision without thinking about them. i will first have to go through my father. the one who needed years of convincing that sending me to music school was the right choice. the one who still doesn’t approve of many of the choices i make in my personal life. and i don’t live with them anymore; i can’t protect my mother anymore except by not doing things that make my father angry.

i can’t heal in this environment.

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i have not wanted to kill myself to this extent in three years. november 8, 2016. i was almost twenty. the country i was living in elected donald trump as its president. 12 december 2019. i am twenty-three. the country i am living in has voted once again for a conservative majority in parliament.

it is close to midnight on friday the 13th and i am listing the most feasible methods i could use to end my life

i am telling myself i can start cutting again after i come back from visiting my family

i genuinely think the world would be a better place if i weren’t in it, and i also think the world is so fucked up that it doesn’t matter whether i’m in it

i know you disagree

i’ve lost the will to care

the only thing stopping me is the knowledge that my death would absolutely destroy my mother

so i have to find a way to live with this crushing pain