Pitch Black

There is no poetry to describe how i fell, 

like there is a hole in my chest. No amount of love could fill,

and people have tried,

they reach toward me

and think they're getting to me but they're only going through me,

soaring through my open wounds.

I was 5 when the sky fell and 11 when I understood everything,

the view became the same with my eyes closed, just dark,

and even with my eyes open everything seemed so blurry.

When you picture a suicidal girl, you picture the colour black.

You see her tears before you see her eyes and wonder if she's ever known a life where untouched skin felt more like home than scar tissue.

You wonder why,

How a girl who has the muscles to smile uses them to cry instead.

But, I'm good at looking like a happy girl because when you picture a suicidal girl, you do not see smiles and pink colours. You see scars and pitch black.

A letter for my doctor

Before you wondering why I wrote this. this is how I communicate and explain myself because sometimes it is easier to write rather than talk. 

Im tired of talking about him. sometimes I felt ashamed to talk about him because people might think im stupid because I let a boy destroy my mental health. im tired of explaining why he triggered me so much. what happened when my mood was intense. im tired of explaining everything about him. I dont want to remember anything about him but I know, it's your job as a doctor to figure what happened but then again im tired. sometimes I try so hard to stop myself from scratch myself and losing control in front of the doctor whenever we talked about him. it brings me so many memories and hatred. it's so tiring. I hate talking about him but there's no single day I didn't think about him. thinking of how much I hate him, thinking what should I do to destroy him, how he treats me, how he constantly bring me down, how he used me for his advantage, how he scolds me, called me whore every time we fight. there are so much more things that I didn't talk about because I dont know how to bring it on or I'm just too ashamed to talk about it. maybe one day, I would be ready. I hate when people tell me to think before I did anything when my emotions were intense. that's the most bullshit thing I've ever heard. im sorry if this is rude but that's how I feel. because I already told them numerous times what I feel when my emotions were intense but they still choose to give advice like that. and

Coping mechanism

I did try to find healthy coping mechanisms. I've tried so many new things. I go for walk, watching sunset/sunrise, exercise. start writing journals as much as I can. I was trying to be healthy and focus on myself and I almost succeed. I already blocked everything about him. I was trying to get a fresh start. at that time, I was so happy thinking I might be on right track again until I saw an article about him. that shit was out of my control. I relapsed again. I take a lot shit of pills, trying to escape from reality. I start smoking. I cut myself again after a year clean from that. I know I'll be damned. one thing about self-harm is when I start again, I will be addicted to the pain. I will do it again and again when I see my scars faded I will think oh just one more time and I cut myself again and it goes and on. sometimes when I think about myself. I see oh how worst I am now. I failed as a daughter, I failed as a person and I failed as a Muslim. I no longer recognize myself. I did everything against my word and im scared thinking of what's gonna comes next. what things will I do next? I thought im healing but all I did was distract myself. I hate when people tell me not to do this or that because I know damn well things I did were wrongs but I still choose to do it anyway.  before I went to sleep, I cried thinking why my life went like this. I just wanna be happy and healthy and be the best version of myself but right now im not doing well. I dont want people to know that im not okay but at the same time, I wanna be heard too. it's kinda lonely when you're at your lowest but you can't tell anyone and your family because you dont want them to invalidate your feelings. also, I hate feeling explaining what makes me sad. it's exhausting. im not healed, am I? I can't stop breaking and im so sick of not being okay. im getting worst again.

Suicidal

I didn't wanna die but I didn't want to be alive. it's not that I wanted to die because I was still scared to die but anything would be better than feeling the way I felt. sometimes I felt too overwhelmed with everything and I felt too tired to live and wake up but sometimes I felt great and I was enough. I dont know if I really wanna die or I just want to escape from reality. sometimes I feel like I just faking it because sometimes I felt like I was never enough and I dont deserve to live but then the next three hours I felt great. my will to live is already thin. right now, I just exist. I wanna die but im scared of hell.

why I didn't tell my parents.

it because im not ready yet. I am already a disappointment and I dont wanna add their disappointment with me much more. also, I dont want to see them blame their parenting skills or they took me to some sort Ustaz or whatever or I dont want to hear them nagging at me cuz I know I can't handle my anger when my mom starts talking. so I'd rather keep it to myself. my life is already hard enough and I dont want to add any drama. 

medication

the medication works very well with me. it did a good job. the pills I take to make me not sad. they make me feel nothing and numbs and sometimes I miss having those emotions and sometimes I stop taking them and I dont tell anyone. those emotions came back and I felt alive but it was not worth it. i felt weird sometimes when everything goes down and I know I should be mad or sad or disappointed but I feel nothing. I dont know how to react so I just shut up. those medications however did not help me to sleep. im still struggling every day to sleep and sometimes I had to stop somewhere because im too tired to drive. I had to take a nap somewhere.