I want to die.

I’m lying awake in my bed, stewing as I recall the day’s events. Something sort of bad happened to me today at school, but it wasn’t all that interesting, just some dumb thing someone did to me that's not worth the story. It wasn’t a big deal, really.

I want to die.

I sound so melodramatic. But it’s not the little thing that happened to me today that’s the problem. Maybe I’m the problem. Like I’m stressing myself out over nothing? I don’t know. This isn’t making sense.

Let me think about how to put it.

Whenever I fail, it’s because I’m not “enough.” When a girl turns me down, it’s because I wasn’t smooth enough. When my friends don’t want to hang out, it’s because I’m not cool enough. When I don’t make the grades I wanted, it’s because I didn’t work hard enough.

And not being “enough” is okay if it happens maybe one or two times. Everyone strikes out once in a while. It becomes a problem when I can never get a hit. It’s like playing a game where every card I draw is “Go back to start.” 

So I start thinking I’m the problem. Everything becomes my fault. There was a right answer and I didn’t pick it. If only I was more “x.” If only I wasn’t so “y.” I hate that I’m “y” and just want to stop being “y” so I can be “x.” Sounds stupid, I know, but whatever.

Fuck it. I give up. Talking about this is stupid.

I want to die. 

It’s not like I’m gonna go out and kill myself or anything crazy like that. I just want to die a little, okay? It’s not like I really want to die, like actually take a gun to my head and pull the trigger. I just like the idea of dying, without all the shitty real-world consequences. 

I want to die, but just for a little bit.

But I can’t. The world keeps going whether I want it to or not, and it sucks. I still have to get up and do the same old grind tomorrow, and the world doesn’t care if I’m feeling bad this particular night.

I bet there are lot of people just like me. Maybe not for the same reasons, but for with same feeling. I never hear about it, but I know they must be out there. They keep it all locked up inside, careful not to let out. Maybe everyone does, and we just never talk about it?  

I mean, I get it. It’s a dog-eat-dog world, and showing weakness is just asking for someone to fuck with you. Sometimes I wish we’d just drop the bullshit, though. We should just admit this whole life thing isn’t going exactly how we want it to, we’re not all the happy, successful people we pretend we are on social media, and that’s fine. 

That’s not never gonna happen, though.

There’s this old poem they had us read in English. I don’t remember the name, but there’s a couple lines where the guy is just shouting “I’m with you!” to his buddy over and over again. Those lines always got me, because they let his friend know he wasn’t alone. That he cared. 

So, to all the folks lying in bed awake, I’m with you!

To all the folks that think they aren’t enough, I’m with you!

To all the folks who want to die, I’m with you!