I Just Want To Be Alone(for now)

  Maybe i've been asking for too much. Maybe God's got sick of me always wanting something that i myself know that i don't deserve. God, i'm sure you're aware of how sick i am of myself, right? My house, my home, my shelter, it protects and has protected me over the years, but now, all i feel is that this place that has been taking care of me, will finally be the death of me. I think, at this point, there is nothing i want more than it to be the death of me. That, or my own personal room.

  You must be thinking, wow she's feeling like complete crap right now and still has the mood and whatnot to joke around. Well, sorry, but you're wrong. That wasn't a joke, i really am dying to have a room to myself. Literally dying. So literal i could almost taste the sleeping pills that i've been considering to put into my mouth since the starting of the year. Am i being a spoiled brat? Am i being ungrateful, wasteful, for wanting out of this gift of life by God and my family? Maybe i am, but i can't help but think that things might just be easier if i hadn't existed. Obviously, i'm not worth a rat's ass. Obviously, i'm just a trash of the society. Obviously, me and happiness are not meant to be. I'm the biggest failure ever, i failed at the only thing that nobody could've failed at even if they tried.

  I've failed at life.

  Living should be the easiest thing to do. It comes to show how useless i am because i couldn't even pull myself through this, through my short teenage life. Things are so horrible up in my head right now, that i've just spent roughly around 45 minutes crying about God-knows-what. No, i'm serious. I can remember why i started tearing up in the first place, but i should've stopped after around 10 minutes of crying. I didn't though. This time i passed the ten minutes, my tears just kept flowing. It continued streaming down both sides of my face until i found myself at a loss for trying to find a reason to my overflowing of tears. I cried so much, and for so long, i didn't even know why i was crying anymore. It came naturally and it was unstoppable. Believe me, i tried stopping it.

  My family probably thinks i'm angry at something stupid and pointless again. They don't understand that i'm just using teenage angst as a cover-up for what i'm really feeling inside. Do they really think that i can be angry 24/7? I just act like i do so that no one would ask about why i cry silently in the bathroom when everyone's downstairs doing their own stuff, why i go to bed at 10.45pm to only fall into slumber at 2am in the morning, why i sometimes don't want to talk or look people in the eyes when i do, why i lock my doors, why i desperately want my own room. I could answer all of those questions right now, but is there really a point to it? I mean, isn't it obvious enough already? Right, maybe the first three was, and the part about wanting my own bedroom can be a little misleading, so i'll provide a short explanation for that one then.

  I want my own room because only then, i'd finally be able to cry in peace. No interruptions. Just peace.

  As of now, i can never really do anything without someone barging into my shared room asking me where this and that was, or if i've done this or that yet, or if i know how soon my public exam will be arriving. And they wonder why i lock my door whenever i'm in my mom's room. Yes, i'm so desperate, i use my mom's room as a second-room. It's actually a pretty good place for me to collect myself and be alone, but too bad whenever people try to come in and discovered that i've locked the door, they'd knock the wooden door down until i open up and explain to them that i wasn't doing anything 'funny' or 'guilty' inside.

  I just want to be alone. Why can't they get that. Why can't they understand that i, a seventeen year old with a messed up head and life, need my personal space to fulfill my messed up needs. Of course, they can't be blamed because i've given them the impression that lead to their underestimation of how messed up i actually am. What child in their right mind would actually tell this to people? Even if they were their own family? I don't tell mine because i don't think they deserve to be put through my own shit. My problems are my problems, i'll do my best to deal with them myself, and even though i'm failing miserably at that, i don't think dragging them into this would help them with their lives. It might help me, but knowing that they would be suffering along with me because of it, it's just not worth it. I will not do that to my family. Not after what i've put them through for being alive and in existence.

  Is this me being selfish? Or big-hearted? Or just guilty that i'm living a life that i absolutely do not deserve? I think it's a little bit of everything. God, i'm just so tired. And school isn't helping. It never does. And i'm not helping myself. I never do. This is why i'm such a waste of space on earth. And also a waste of a perfectly perfect life of a daughter.

  The only thing i'll ever regret, i think, is the fact that i was born. Is it wrong, horrible for me to say something like that? I don't know anymore. At this point in life, i don't know if i wanna know anything anymore.