my disturbing thoughts
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When you tell someone that your brother was an alcohol-induced skitzophrenic who committed suicide by cutting his throat 36 times with a kitchen knife, they tend to look at you somewhat differently. It's like there thinking, "Hmm, is she about to fly of the handle? Is SHE off her rocker TOO? And then there's the aftermath of the death itself. I've lost two close people to suicide this year, and let me tell you, it's no picnic. All you do is run millions and millions of thoughts through your head. You're thinking, every second of every day---why would they do something like that? how could they just ignore everyone who loves them and shoot themselves in the head or cut their own throat? Didn't we matter? Didn't I matter? Wasn't I important enough? It's all my fault, it's all my fault... But you've had those thoughts too, you know you have, And it's all you can do not to satisfy those staring people and just go crazy. You just want to scream and scream and let everything out but you know you can't, cause what if everyone thinks you're crazy too? Better yet, what if you ARE crazy? It can't be normal to feel this twisted and mangled inside, it isn't natural, it isn't right. And you're screaming so loud on this inside that it's tearing you apart but no one can hear you. No one can here you dying on the inside. But it wouldn't matter if they did because people never pay attention. No one ever notices the signs that are there, the signs that you're so desperate and so lonely and tired that you'll do anything to make it stop. Just make the pain STOP!!! Why does it have to hurt so much? It would be so much easier to just end it all but you can't, because that's what they've done to you. And then when you're dead everyone will say, "Poor thing, she just lost it, didn't she?" and you would be screaming at them from the grave, "I didn't lose it! I was still me, I was!! I wanted the pain to stop, but it just wouldn't go away and I didn't know what to do, I didn't know!" You can't talk to your friends---they don't understand. You can't talk to your family---they'll just pretend everything's all fine. All you want is someone to take you and shake you by the shoulders and say, "It's always going to hurt, but not always this bad! It's not the end, it's not!" But there's no one to say it, there's no one to stop and look at you and see that your dying inside. There's no one to hear your silent whispers, your tears of shame---ashamed that you knew them, ashamed that you claim them as yours. Ashamed that you might have thought she same thing once too. "You'll go to hell!" they say but I thought God was merciful. I thought he had pity on the sick and the beaten and the broken...Like MCR, "will you be the savior of the broken? The beaten and the damed?" but you know you can't be their savior, you can't even get a handle on your own mind! You're talking to yourself in your own head, wondering if what they did is easier, if they've finally gotten their peace and redemption and you think, "It would be so easy just to throw it all away. After all, everything's just dust in the wind." But you know that's not true you know that all these people around you will think the same things as you and they'll catch the Crazy. But you still can't stop the screaming, the voices in your head that say it would just be easier to end it all now, NOW when nothing and no one matters. Except that nothing in life and death is that simple, and there's nothing to ease your pain.
Where do you turn when there's no where to go?