This is an anonymous blog post
Most days I want to die, it makes me happy to think how easy it is to actually die, but then the thought of my children stop that happy thought and I’m back to where I started.
Imagine you’re watching someone walking around and around in a circle not saying nothing just thinking. Like you can see them but you cannot hear them, that’s me.
I feel empty
My body is here, moving doing day-to-day stuff but my mind is blank.
Empty it’s just nothing.
I feel like I’m not actually here, like I’m a walking shell.
I cannot explain why I feel this way. I was never physically abused, my home life as a child was not bad.
I was brought up by my parents until I was 12 years old. My mum has mental health problems and she spent a lot of time alone and my dad worked and looked after us children all 5 of us.
I was bullied in school but nothing that really sticks out. The odd name calling, spending time alone as no one wanted to be my friend, but I got on with it until I became the bully.
I left school at 13 and looked after my younger sister and mum.
I remember my first overdose like it was yesterday and thinking back now I wish I did it differently so I could have gone before I became a mum.
My mum wanted to take her pills and to prevent her I stood in front of her and swallowed the whole lot, then I walked out of the house to a friends and told her mum what I had done.
My mum was not there mentally and I understand that feeling all too well.
Off to the hospital I went and was given charcoal to soak everything up.
I got told off for taking them and was told I should have thrown them down the toilet, but deep down I wanted to take them.
I wanted my mum to know what she was doing was wrong, but it didn’t make a difference to her, she still tried over and over.
I became angry by 14 years old. I rebelled and did what I pleased. My dad didn’t care, he had left us (we had and still now have regular contact) my mum was in her room on her own, didn’t even get dressed.
She was the empty shell that I am now
I had taken several overdose’s and self-harmed on a daily basis.
By 15 I moved out, I didn’t want to be what I was becoming and started working and being a child again. Enjoying life having no responsibilities.
I stopped self-harming and stopped wanting to die but was taking drugs and drinking whenever I could.
So my life wasn’t that bad but still I want to die and there is no reason why I would want to.
Many people are worse off than myself.
I cannot explain why I am the way I am but all I know is I feel empty, like I am in a shell. I’m not really here, I feel empty.
Can anyone relate to me?
This is an anonymous blog post. You can share your own real life story to help others. All blog posts submitted via the blog anonymously email form will be added to the blog anonymously for you, just like this blog post has been. Don’t read and run, show your support by leaving a comment.