” Basically, I believe that if I’m not the best at something, I’m not good enough. If I can’t become the best, then I’m just wasting time. I know that this mindset isn’t necessarily true, but it’s always my first instinct.”
Well she’s the best at wise words, I’ll give her that.
Originally posted on The Mirth of Despair:
Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
As someone with mental health issues, my answer is that of course I’ve thought of giving up on life. I’ve thought of it often. Day 25 covers some aspects of my most suicidal moments. I’ll go into a little more detail here.
The first time I was suicidal, I was thirteen. I didn’t have any friends. There were a couple of people I talked to during lunch, but that was about it. My mom had forced me to take a home economics class, both in 7th and 8th grade, and because I had poor spatial skills (as I well knew), I did pretty poorly. Other students made fun of how horrible I was in home economics. In middle school, I made B’s in only two classes–home economics and P.E. I got B’s in P.E. because I often wouldn’t dress out for it. I hated P.E. because I was always the worst one at everything. I was especially bad at volleyball and volley tennis, and people would groan when they got me on their team. A few times, people intimidated me into not dressing out because they didn’t want such a terrible player on their team. And, oh, God, I remember this really embarrassing and terrible event. After P.E. when I went to the locker room to change, I found a note in my locker. It told me that I stank and should use deodorant. Well, I have always sweated easily; I can’t help it, and of course I used deodorant. I was horrified at the note, and this shy girl acted uncharacteristically. I brandished the note and started shouting and hysterically sobbing. A few of the other nice and not-so-popular people looked stunned at my outburst. This is a weird memory, like something that doesn’t seem real, but I know it happened.