Author: ParanoidPiratePuppy PM
This is a little story that I wrote one day when I was feeling down, then picked up slightly. Hope you all enjoy, no flames please. Rated T for some stuff mentioned in thereRated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Family - Words: 481 - Favs: 1 - Published: 10-14-12 - id: 3065481
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
My true emotions aren't the ones that many see.
They are the ones in my head. The ones that drive me to depression and anxiety.
They drive me to hideous thoughts, very hideous thoughts.
My mum is the only one that can tell when my smile isn't real, and she is truly the only one who listens to me, for no one else bothers.
My dad is too wrapped up in his own issues, as are the rest of the family.
My sister is only ten going on eleven, so she is too young to understand.
I occasionally tell my best friend, but she doesn't fully understand what it's like. Like to have a mental disorder. I only let her in a little, probably a little less than what I should.
I suffer with Asperger's Syndrome, a high functioning form of Autism. Don't get me wrong, I am proud of it at best, but lately… with all my learning difficulties and the social stuff of dealing with nasty people has been very hard. I am doing my best to pull through. To be honest, I am only just pulling through.
I want to take my own life, I really do; but there is one thing that is stopping me from doing it. The love and support that my family and friends are managing to give me… and the pain that I would put them through if I was to go through with it.
The one thing that makes me rethink about my thoughts the most is my Auntie.
My Auntie passed away five days before my first birthday at the age of twenty eight.
The pain she put my family through when she committed suicide was heart-wrenching, especially with my cousin. He was only ten at the time, and it hits him badly now. I would always ask questions about her growing up, and my parents would always tell me that she got sick and went to heaven. I always missed her, but when I found out she died to suicide, it really hit me. I was a little angry at my parents for lying to me for all of those years, but when they explained themselves, I felt a little better. Every year on her anniversary, I feel great hurt and anger; and that is the same hurt and anger I would put my loved ones through if I was to go through with killing myself.
I still feel depressed, and I know I need to pull myself out of this. But it isn't as easy as being happy.
I will get over this anxiety and depression in the holidays, and start off my new school term fresh and fit, ready to accept any challenge thrown at me.
I have one thing to say.
Life you bitch, bring it on!