Teenager in Distress

I don't know when life begins but I do know when it ends that's easy; it's when you feel under accomplished , depressed , disinterest and a loathing for things you've experience, and there's a lot of bad things to experience both serious things like rape and abuse or things only yourself, might find to be a bad experience. Like having a crowd of people laugh at you either way it contributes to the end of 'life' maybe not physically but mentally. Is that why there are people who want to end their or other people's lives saying its just them offering their help? Is that why I get the urge sometimes to 'help' end a few lives of people I know… especially 'HER' life in particular. I know she gave birth to me and she raised me after all she's my mum.

Here's the first thing you should know after reading that, something important in this mess considered a life, a life she cursed me with.

'I hear voices' yes I'm a 15-year-old who hears voices in her head. They whisper things to me telling me all those gruesome ways I could get rid of everyone I want. Nasty voices who insult me when I don't give in to them.

This is my life not some sappy creative writing English assessment. Though you have to admit my story kicks Shakespeare's butt, I mean who needs Romeo and Juliet when your practically an inch away from declaring yourself insane but I wasn't always this way I used to have loads of childish and crazy dreams and wishes.

This might be memory or a dream but I remember being happy… this tingling, flapping feeling in my stomach; I was probably just hungry but I took it for happiness. My mum and I were lying on my grandmother's bed I was about five years old. The room had beautifully blue walls. Not sad blue but majestic sky blue, you know the colour of happiness, freedom and dreams. She was making important decisions about moving to another country and all that kind of stuff but I remember all I could think about was being with my mum. Did I know I might hold a small piece of regret one day? No I didn't.

As the years pass in this new country I worked hard and got the best grades. I only had one thing on my mind. Not the respect or fame it might bring me… just ..just my mothers approval, that's all I've ever wanted the only thing I've ever work hard for and the harder I work it seems the more out of grasp it goes… because the higher I rise, it's the more her insatiableness increases and it becomes impossible to satisfy what she wants.

10 years from my happy moment and I've been disappointed and thrown away but she was always there. It's like she was only pretending I was no good but she is in reality extremely proud of me and who I've grown to be, who I'm working to become. Someone who'll make a change to the world whether she lives to see it.

I see this now. She's happy for me. She may have thought she was doing the right thing by saying I was no good but all she did was make me more insecure and less confident in anything but that was only when I was with her. When I'm at school I'm confident and proud and outgoing who achieves greatly. Yet this was never enough.

She would say she wasn't impressed and I'd go lock myself in my room crying tears that I've managed to keep in just until that moment. When I'm alone in that room my thoughts get muddled, I'd feel so alone with my hot tears streaming down my face, shivering even though it wasn't cold and then… the whispered words would return.

I'd be on the edge of falling and breaking and then I'd remind myself of all those saying about doing it for self and I'd push thoughts of harming myself away. I'd look in the mirror at myself with disgust at what I was thinking, I'd wipe my tears and continue making a good life for myself knowing that the voices would stop eventually.

But now and then I'd ask myself What's wrong with you?

Why are you the way you are? And I'd answer because this is how I'm supposed to be and I'd move forward again.