User talk:UnknownUser190

Mental health.
I have been writing suicide notes to my parents for years. But I would never go through with it because of what I left behind, the people who did care for me. All though there isn’t very many of them, I still cried in disgust at my own actions. Even as I write this I cry thinking back to all of the events that have occurred in the past 14 years. The first note I wrote was to my father. It was about how I wasn’t good enough and this world was getting to rough. Little did I know that what I was experiencing was only 0.1% of what is to come. I was going through the first stage of my depressing life, one event after another it got worse. The second note I wrote was about 4 months later. It had gotten bad again (it was still to my father. ) he had never ever gotten a single peep out of his “joyful and happy” daughter, who was starving herself because she thought she was fat. This was at the age of 8. I repeat 8. The second letter was this exactly.

I’m not good enough to be your daughter, you are worthy of someone new.

-(my name)

After awhile it got simple but I nummbed myself so I couldn’t feel. Couldn’t make mistakes. And to this day I still feel numb. And I still want to be someone new. I wrote around 23 notes to my mother and father in one year at the age of 9.

Skipping a few years to when I started high school. Being a veggie it was hard to fit in. I didn’t have friends so I sat with my sister. She is my best friend to this day. She wanted me to find some friends before she graduated so she pushed me to find some real friends. Of course that took weeks until I gave up and met a girl called Tess. She was strange but she talked to me so I guess we became friends. For once in awhile I smiled. (2017) That’s when I met Emma. Emma was my first girlfriend. I loved her but me being me I thought I wasn’t good enough. She and I ended at 2 months. After that I still felt feelings for her. It’s now 2018 and I still love her, but I’m afraid she doesn’t feel the same. This made me spiral deeper into the cave of depression I dug myself into. Now I’m here in my bed at 3am writing to an audience that doesn’t exists.

For 6 years I have struggled with extreme depression. 430 notes explaining why i killed myself. 84 scars that cover my body. UnknownUser190 (talk) 12:25, 3 April 2018 (UTC)