Just need to get it out somewhere.

I think about suicide everyday

It's gotten to the point where I think about suicide so much that I'm afraid to be in my garage alone at night with all the wires & ropes it has.

Why can't suicide be the answer?

I woke up with the sun Thought of all the people, places and things I've loved I woke up just to see Of all the faces you are the one next to me

Lately, my feeling of depression has been coming back. I don't know why. Life is honestly so great and I love everything. It's just been creeping in. I feel it. It's been maybe over a week since it's come back. It started with me sleeping in until later. I got tired of waking up. Bored, actually. I feel lazy to live my life. I just wish I could sink into a comfortable hotel bed with that feathery pillow and quickly fade away into absolutely nothing. That's my destination. That's what my depression feels like. I can't find many reasons to live at all. So this depression of mine has been coming back, and maybe I just take in everything more sensitively when I feel this way but I feel like everyone is so negative. It could be that all these people aren't satisfied with their own lives, but WHY do they need to bring mine down? I wish people knew. I wish people knew that their words make me want to give up my life. That the best course of action I see for myself is taking a bunch of drugs, having a bad trip, and just cutting the damn plug from myself. Or just jumping out a building window. I wish there was another way since I don't have the courage to do any of that. I want to have a happy future so badly. Sometimes I think I want it more than any other college student studying to become a successful expertise in their area because I get up and do something. Studying and working a part time job is so minor for me. I need constant change to keep myself entertained. There's something wrong with me. But change makes me pretty happy, for a little while at least. Anyways, I had a feeling I was going to feel this way again sometime soon. And I was right. I didn't want it to purposely come back at all, not at all. I tried to fight it off for so long. But fighting it gets so hard when the people around you only make it worse. It began with my aunt when I got here. I did everything she asked me to, since I'm her guest. Yet, I'm only 19 at the same time. I think I'm allowed to slack a little, right? Like when she asks me to wash the dishes and I'm in the middle of studying. I can go wash the dishes hours later, can't I? Do other people really drop what they're doing to do what their parents ask them to? I really wouldn't know but it makes me feel like shit when afterwards, she begins to critique everything about me. But I brush it off. I think to myself, "when you want to try to act perfect for someone, this is what happens. They'll find something else about you to let you know all your imperfections." I constantly remind myself of this. People need to understand that no one is perfect... Even if there are people who seem like they're real close to it, they still aren't. People should be left alone. I don't know why everyone's always trying to judge everyone. But I brushed my aunt off. Her and my mom look like legitimate twins, but I don't treat her like my mom since it would be extremely rude to fight with her the way daughters fight with their mothers. But then I have my boyfriend yelling at me because he doesn't go to the gym enough. And I'm supposed to come along. I agree with that only because it's shitty having a hot boyfriend with a hot body and not rewarding him with an equal body and attitude. Sometimes I don't want to go to the gym, and I just don't want to feel guilty about that. But I love my boyfriend and that's such a minor problem in a relationship that I'll take that problem over any other kind of problem other relationships have. Then, the guy who is supposed to be my best guy friend calls me a bitch because I stopped dating this guy sort of out of nowhere. I lost interest, move on... I didn't do it in a bitchy way either, but in his eyes, since the guy didn't get what he wants, I'm a bitch. I don't even get along with most girls because they're catty, I hate being one of those girls and I try really hard not to be. Of course sometimes I am on purpose, but I'm just teasing the poor girl. No one can take a joke anymore. Then, today I'm called paranoid by 3 people. I don't know what the fuck is going on. I have no idea what makes me "paranoid." I sure ask A LOT of questions. That's because I'm curious. I like to get into people's minds and understand how they get to their thoughts and conclusions about things. That doesn't make me paranoid... And when I started asking the people what I do that makes them think I'm paranoid, they simply pointed out that I was being paranoid. Why the fuck... I'm pretty confused now. All I ever hear from people is so much negativity and hate. "My shorts are too short for this culture." "You say everything so wrong in this language, it's so cute." The reason I'm here is to learn my native language correctly... like what. I know I say things wrong. Just correct me and don't be an ass about it. I'm good at brushing off what people say, but there comes to a certain point that I just get soooo low that I don't want to exist anymore. I never knew there was so much wrong with me. When I meet people, they tell me I'm kind, intelligent, happy, curious and many other things. I've been told by a boss of mine that I have the most unique mind he's ever seen and by another boss that I have a beautiful mind. Yet, from my closest friends and family, I receive so many critiques. To my family, anything I say isn't trustworthy and it must be looked up to be confirmed because I'm apparently partially crazy and exaggerated. How can family treat family that way? It's not even right to treat a human being that way... That's so rude to even play around about, if it were even a joke... And it's not. I get all my information from the things I learn in school, from professor's lectures, from information. I don't say things out my ass. And my family seriously looks up the things I say and see that I'm correct. I know they're not dumb so it makes me feel like the dumb one. Then, I'm "too much" towards everything. I love the world too much, I love people too much, I'm excited too much too often, I'm easily interested in things too much, I'm hurt too much, my face of disappointment looks "too much." And these are not said as complements by my family. Since I'm all "too much" they tell me I'm going to be crazy one day, just like my grandma is now and that I'm already headed down that path. That's gotta bother a person. In my opinion, it's a beautiful thing to love, live, laugh, and all "too much." I'm normally extremely happy. Because if I'm not, I'm extremely depressed. I wish I could just hand people a card saying that to explain myself. People are so mean when trying to figure you out. They can say such harsh things. I keep quiet about all of it. I'm really not one to be rude and at the time of people saying this, I'm normally too confused to even want to say anything back. I understand that maybe we just have really different views too. That could be it. I wish I could tell the people closest to me about my problem. But I've never met anyone who takes depression seriously. Psychologists don't even take depression seriously. Then, if you even tell people, they start to feel bad for you. Or they think they can't invite you places because "she must have some other type of mental disease going on in her mind." Oh I've heard it so many times from other people talking about people behind their backs. That makes a person terrified to admit what they're even struggling about. And my dad sees it sometimes, but he would rather pay for some new clothes or some food than pay for a psychologist for me. I thought if I kept traveling and being with family that maybe my problem would go away. Obviously, I was dead wrong. I think I'd rather surround myself with strangers all the time and travel all the time than stay surrounded by people who know me best. It doesn't help me in any way to stick around. The people closest to you tend to hurt you the most and strangers won't even be around long enough to see a flaw in you. I have a huge burden on me all the time about the stress of having to be perfect. I can't deal with that stress when people are more focused about one of your hair's being out of place than the big picture. And I wish I had the courage so badly to just end all of this, but I don't. I can't. I'm not anywhere near ready for death. I can no longer imagine what it would be like. But I can imagine nothing. And I imagine that would feel pretty nice. Perfect. 

You just couldn't dream with me and it destroyed us.

Ugh

What good does it do if it is mentioned yet soon forgotten, buried, and dead just like it used to be? There's still a skeleton in the closet.

So, growing up with my mom she never fed me enough and constantly warned me not to gain weight and encouraged starvation/puking. I moved into my dad's house at 16. He always fed me enough, I was allowed to eat as much as I wanted, he gave me a gym membership, I never weighed more than 105lbs. I did it the healthy way. Recently, there's been no food in my dad's house, he's been letting all the food he buys rot, I have no idea how long things have been in the fridge for, he complains about spending money on me, he doesn't buy me food often at all and will buy $30 meals for himself. Occasionally yes, he buys me food of course. But he complains about money so much that I feel ashamed to ever ask him to buy food. I find myself feeling the same way I did when I lived with my mom and I feel hungry. Today I bought myself breakfast at work with the $5 I had, I had 2 coffee's for lunch and spaghetti for dinner that yes, my dad bought. But the point is, there was nothing in the fridge for breakfast, no money for lunch, and my dad didn't have the slightest concern if I had ate or not. I recently found out my mom has so little money that she doesn't really eat either unless she has guests staying at the house. It's so terrible that I live in a first world country and find people starving all the time still. It doesn't make any sense to me and it's extremely sad. I'm the type of person that appreciates food and tries to never waste any. And I have relatives and friends that are able to buy themselves clothes all the time and they throw plates of food away every meal. I appreciate what people in my country call "the small things" and sometimes I wonder, if only my family knew what was going on with me.

I just want to die.