Warning: I’m not a native speaker, so I apologize for my lack of English. I will try my best to make my words easy to understand.
I am a 19-year old girl, living in a tropical country, around South-East Asia. Right now I study in a university famous for its smart graduates. People here are geniuses, and the competition is happening almost everyday. I’m studying art and design, and for this job, we need ideas for every works we designed. It’s almost a stressing job, due to the high standard and expectations from the teachers that are grading our arts. I’ve been diagnosed with depression and I’m having trouble to concentrate or focus on certain thing for a long period. I’m having trouble to understand the subjects and most of the time I don’t have good grades. Just averages.
My father is a person that always has high expectation for education. He’s the one who teach my big brother back then. But, as mostly Asian parenting method, the method is not as soft as it should be. Almost every night my father accompanied my brother to study and would hit him with belt if my big brother ever made mistake, even for the small one. As a child, I remembered I’ve almost got treated like that but I begged to study with someone else outside. And so I’ve gotten myself into a home-course.
I loved my big brother. I grew up most of my childhood with him. But right now, after several mental abuses and physical abuses made by my father, it ruined my brother’s whole life. He began to rebel to my father, ran from home, made problems with police, and others. His life now is just living inside his room with his computer, phone, game and smoking cigarettes.
I don’t blame for what my father did. I understand his position. Earlier in my father’s childhood, he’s been abused too by his father, and forced to work almost everyday as every Asian parents would do in earlier decades. At his late 20s, he’s been diagnosed to have Hepatitis C, and it’s a really bad illness, and my father ever since been forcing his body to overwork in order to have income. After married to my mother, his abusive behavior only happened when his stress got high and he couldn’t control it. He’d hit my brother, me, and sometimes my mother. My mother once begged him to stop, but it just didn’t work. But several years later, just around his late 40s, his sickness is just gone. And ever since that, my father’s been a really good man. (Only just several cases he get mad, but not as abusive as before. Just shouting).
Well, the cycle of pain continued. As my brother’s mental health now is in a bad state and he’s not seeking for any help (I haven’t spoken to him since the day he went rebel and stuffs), mine as well. When my brother rebelled and mad for what my father did to him for his entire childhood and been blaming my father for that, he’s right now just… I don’t know how to describe his state. Bad, I guess.
Little did my parents realize, not only my brother is having problems with his mental health, but also their own daughter too. I’ve been depressed ever since my brother lost his sanity, but I’ve been trying to cover it from my parents in order not to hurt their feelings. I didn’t know I have depression at that moment, I just don’t want to break their hearts more than what my brother did
Since school, I have several friends that I trusted. I told them my problems about my family. I told them about how I questioned God and religion too. But lately, after I graduated from high school, I never realized how this one person just provoked the entire group to hate me and posted my problems online to her social media. It’s really a huge shock to me, and it hurt me really hard. I talked about this to my boyfriend, but he brushed it off, just because this person was the one who’s been helping him to get into a relationship with me. This year, we broke up because I feel like, I can’t seek the future with him anymore. Even though he’s been the one who’s dealing with my depression and suicidal thoughts, but later he just didn’t care much as he used to. That’s when I think I need to end the relationship.
Because I lost both my friends and my boyfriend, I decided to move on. But I overworked. I signed to 5 jobs at that moment and handled almost the projects single-handedly. I have several new friends, but they’re also have several problems and have mental disorder/illness too. At first, they’re helping. But later with my new problems. their reactions and responses weren’t helping my mental so much.
The projects I did bring much stress to me. Not only that, I also have problems with academic too. After several months dealing with too much stress and pressures, I decided to contact one of my friend that live in the same city as I study to (I moved to a city to study in uni there), and agreed to have some drinks and his place. The next thing happened too fast. I lost my virginity to him. I felt betrayed after learning what happened in the next day. Instead of me panicking for what would happen, it was him who’s indeed, panicking. He said he wasn’t ready for the responsibility and everything. And I was the one who calmed him down. Later that evening, I went to my friend’s apartment on the 7th floor. I told her I need company that night and decided to stay at her place. Between that time, she had to go out, and I was left alone. The dark thoughts began to overwhelmed me and I told my friends in the group chat that I want to commit suicide, jump from the 7th floor. It’s because I still feel the pain at my body after doing that last night, and I wanted to deny the fact that I’m not a virgin anymore. In west, a girl who lost her virginity is considered as sin, trashed, and most of the time, being mocked and called as bitch. I was afraid of being judged and driven by that thought, I wanted to take my life.
But my friend, the one who take my virginity, quickly called me and calmed me down. For two to three hours I cried with him, I told him I lost everything and have nothing to live. My future is destroyed and no one’s going to marry me. Even though he said one day there’ll be someone who’s going to love me for who I am not what I have, but still. The fact that I never gave him consent to do that, and how he reasoned that I asked him for it many times and later he fell for it, but still. I feel, betrayed. But I decided not to report to the police. I calculated the risks and efforts and the results weren’t good for me and him. I love him as a friend, and I just don’t want to make bigger problems. I just don’t want my parents know.
After that event, I’ve been suicidal ever since. I attempted two suicides attempts, trying to jump from the building, I did self-harm, and planned to commit suicide without anyone notice. The first week, my friend who took my virginity do the responsibility for keeping me alive. He’s been checking on me regularly, and been there when I had suicidal thoughts. He told me that I need to tell my closest friends and even I said no, he insisted. As expected, my new closest friends didn’t like it. Their responses were just, emotional outburst. I understand that at that moment, but their emotional outbursts were the one that’s been pressing me for the whole week. That my friend needs to do more than he already did, and other several things that they thought right. But it was right to them, not me. When I tried to stand on my ground, trying to insist on my decision, they brushed it off as they said I become soften because I have feelings for him.
That week, I told him I want to die. I told him, “If things stayed out like this, I want to make my own happiness by taking my life.” My friend’s the one who’s trying to keep me alive, and he tried to give me hope. He told me to just live, even without purpose. He told me that life will find its meaning by its own time, I just need to continue to live.
The next three whole weeks filled with several problems with academic assignments and colleagues, and also I decided to drunk alcohol, a bottle of beer a day, to help me to sleep. For the last years, I only have 4-5 hours of sleep, but that weeks, my nap time shortened to 2-3 hours. Every nights I cried and had hyperventilating, and in order for me to can breathe again, I cut my arms to switch focus to the pain. My chest feels so tight and it’s hard to take a deep breathe. At certain times I have headaches and panic attack, and in order for me to get out from that, I need physical pain or something to calm me down. But for every actions I took, like self-cutting and drinking, my friends judged me that that actions were wrong, it shouldn’t be like this and that. There’s a friend who understand my reason for that action, and she decided to accompany me whenever I went to the bar for a drink. She has anxiety and suicidal thoughts too, so that’s why she understood my problems. Later that week, she told me she’s been pressed by my closest friends that her action for accompanying me and buying me drinks were wrong and even questioned her and interrogated her for that.
I went mad. I told them to stop doing that. I told them it’s my way to cope with it, that I was lonely, and I’ve got nobody there to be really there with me. They defended themselves that they couldn’t do that, and they said that I asked for something impossible, to be by my side for 24/7. I got even mad. I never told them like that. I never asked to be babysit for 24/7 by them, not a chance. I didn’t asked my friend who took my virginity too to move in with me and stay with me 24/7 because I knew that everyone has their own priorities. I told them that they’re the one who told me that I am not alone, that I am loved, that I am cared, but I told them too when I need them the most, they’re busy with their lives. They’re the one who offered to help but also the one who brushed me off when I need it. That’s why I coped with alcohol and self-cutting. Because nobody is willing to be there with me the whole time. They knew, but decided to prioritize their own bright future.
After that, we never talked about it again, and I left the group. I decided to go seek a doctor and been given medicine to help me sleep and with the depression. Right now the doctor is still trying to find the right diagnose but I’ve been thinking of quitting because I don’t have enough money. I also think that it might not worth it. I am not worth all the effort. That I might be a burden to everyone I know. There are several other friends who really are offering help, offer to listening, but I’m afraid I just not worth all the effort. After all, I don’t have the will to live again. Earlier, I’ve been in contact with my ex and he decided to help to cope with my depression again. He calmed me with his ways he used to do, but later I cut myself again because I was overwhelmed by the emotion I felt. I’ve lost everything, and I’ve been thinking of commit suicide and this time without any one of my friends or family know.
I often asked my friend, people that I know, why are they fighting for me. They told me they need to keep me alive. That suicide is not the right answer. I asked my ex, why is he trying to keep me alive, even though he has no business with me anymore. He told me because my life’s worth living. He told me there are several beautiful things yet to explore. He suggested me to practice meditation, but I told him I tried, but it failed. I’ve been overwhelmed by the emotion inside my mind. The thoughts and the trauma’s been replaying inside my mind, and how I can feel sad so suddenly for no reason. How I can go from happy to sad just in a flick of moment. Or how I can go happy at day time, and be sad during night time. How I always be depressed during midnight and how I always try to take my own life during night time.
Lately, the emotions are showing at day time too. I feel exhausted, not excited, and have panic attacks too. I’m afraid of my own mind. I’m afraid of myself. I feel like, if I can put an end to my sufferings, I’ll take the gun and shot my head. Everyday I feel hollow and empty. I feel numb. I feel useless and worthless. I feel I’ve been left to die after my limbs severed from my body. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see and I’m afraid of darkness. I often ask myself, until when will I keep living like this? Until when will I stop fighting my everyday battle inside my mind? People often don’t believe what I am saying, that I’m making things by saying there’s battle inside my mind and how I just need to think positive instead of negative. I tried. I tried. But I just failed. I need friends to accompany me but they can’t be with me 24/7. I study far from my parents and I live alone.
I’m drowning. It’s like, I’m battling with the sea waves, trying to get myself still on the surface. I’m battling with the storm too, and it’s ruining my energy. I know people are trying to support me with all they might, but it just… one day, one day, I just want to take my life one day. I have no reason to live and they didn’t give me reasons to live. They’ve been checking on me but only that. The one who’s paying for medication is me. The one who’s paying for the trip cost to the hospital is me, and I’ve got no money left. It’s almost Christmas and I need to go home for holiday, and my parents will questioning about the scars at my left arm.
I feel like I want to die before I meet my parents. I don’t believe in Hell because I don’t believe in God. I prayed to God for several years but it seems to me that he’s non-exist. If they said suicide will lead me to Hell, they may not know that I’ve already live in a living Hell.