My dad found an old folder of mine with poems and drawings from when I was young. The oldest poem is from when I was eleven! I didn’t remember how young I was when I started to write poetry. It was so inspiring to read them (some of them are actually pretty good) and reminded me once again, how passionate I am about writing (and maybe I should pursue my drawing passion as well?).

I was a very sensitive, introverted child. As I progressed into the teenage years, my emotions became stronger and heavier so that sometimes I was on the verge of suffocating. I was diagnosed with depression when I was 16. Shortly after, before the medicine started to work, I made a suicide attempt and ended up in the hospital after eating all kinds of pills. This happened shortly after I started to smoke cannabis and immediately became hooked on. I believe the cannabis triggered my depression and ever since I’ve always become depressed after I smoke it a few times. The last time, four and a half years ago, I was so far down I was afraid for my own life. I’ve been sober since and worked a lot on myself and have now been medicine free for over 2 years and “broke up” with my dear psychiatrists a year ago.

Before I was diagnosed with depression I thought it was completely normal to contemplate on a regular basis on how you would commit suicide. To those who relate to this, I wanna tell you that it is not normal and you can get help to live a happy life. There is always a solution for getting better, even though it might take some time. You just have to push through, one day at a time.

Here’s one of the poems from that folder (probably thought as a song lyric as all of my English poems at the time) which describes how I felt pretty well. Fortunately, I never went further than making that attempt.

Teenage Suicide

Wakes up in the morning.
Wondering why.
Eats her breakfast.
Wondering when.
Walks to the bus stop.
She’s waiting.

Get’s through her workday.
Wondering how.
Rides the bus back home.
These faces all around.
She wants to be just like them,
shine like a star.

Only one little wish,
one little wish.
To be like them,
perfect.

Wakes up in the morning.
Wondering why.
Throws away her breakfast.
Reads a magazine.
These faces all around.
She wants so be just like them,
shine like a star.

Calls in sick at work.
Wondering what she should write.
Walks into the bathroom
from which she never returns.
Lies down in the bathtub.
She’s bleeding.

Only one little wish,
one little wish.
To be like them,
perfect.

It’s all she wants,
all she wants.
Just one little wish.
Just to be perfect like a star.
It’s all she wants,
all she wants.

Only one little wish,
one little wish.
To be like them,
perfect.
Perfect.


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