You can sit there...in your chair at school, on your bed at home, at your kitchen table with your family, on the couch with your siblings, in an uncomfortable chair with a therapist...and your feelings never change.
The settings around you may change, your family may change, your friends may change...but you―you stay the same.
Because after you go through the routine of waking before dawn, arguing with your parents over taking your medication, your siblings making your life more difficult without knowing...you finally get away.
But it's not relief.
Here, at school, you have to put a fake smile on your face. You have to laugh when others laugh, act like you're having a good time. But when underneath, you're dying.
The bell rings but it brings no relief. Brings no aid. No help.
Back at home it's no different than what you went through in the morning. There's yelling, screaming, fighting, arguing. It never ends.
You go up to your room, slamming the door and throwing your things. You start on the piles of homework, missing, and late work. You've never been able to finish any of the assignments.
After about a minute of sitting there at your desk, listening to the hell breaking loose downstairs, you can't take it.
You take the knife out of your nightstand drawer, the one you stole from the kitchen, and head to the bathroom.
Every flaw and mistake in your life, your family, your friends, yourself, all of it resurfaces at this time.
That is the only time there is...relief.