Dear English Teacher

Mid-July, and I'm sorry to say I'm doing just as poorly as before, if not more so. You told me to email you if i needed to vent, and I find that I can't even do that; I feel I need an excuse to contact you, because why would you want to hear from a downer like me? The sad part is, I know you wouldn't ever think that about me, and you are only concerned. It's me though; it has always been my fault, you know, this kind of thing. I get down on myself enough times, and eventually I come to believe the horrid slander that seemingly constantly occupies my mind is truth. Honest to god, I believe it with all my heart. That is why I can't bring myself to dump more burden onto anyone else's shoulders, even if it means prolonging my life.

I know you wouldn't like to hear that either. You've always contested my view of myself, even when it was unintentional on my part to reveal such to you, and said how I was such a clever girl. Yeah, easy to appear clever in a class of seriously average, mildly dim-witted teenagers whose deepest thoughts pan out to be what their plans for this weekend are and how they hate their ex-boyfriend/girlfriend, or how they got so drunk last weekend. I also know that most of these kids respected me, at least in the setting of our loud, sometimes haphazard english class, and did look to me as the voice of reason at times. The truth is, your class is the only one I liked, despite a few crying episodes from the back corner and some seriously scarcastic remarks. I think you know that though, because I never made it a secret that I loved english, only that I loved the class as well.

Looking back on the past year, I can't imagine how you could ever consider me to be a smart girl. Honestly, I'm throwing my life away, and I can't say depression is a valid excuse for such. I'm imfamous, we both know it. It's funny, really. Everyone comes to me with their stories of weekend exploits, because surely everyone knows about my suspensions, not to mention trouble with the law. The sad thing is, I haven't stopped, or slowed. No, see, the way I figure, I'm not going to make it past age 20 (at the oldest). I'm never going to make it to an age where what I do is acceptable, if that even exists, so I might as well live while I can. As you said, some people can afford to lose brain cells, and some people cannot. Despite that, I know that my actions just add to my pending downfall.

I've been put on, and taken myself off of, an antidepressant already. I just didn't feel like me on it, and I know you would understand what I mean when I say that. Yes, I remember the conversation we had about feeding depression, and I know I must play right into it. And yet, I find myself thinking about death constantly. The medicine didn't help that; in actuality, it just made me consider it more seriously. I know what you would say, that this gets better, that once I get out of high school and make it into the real world things will be right for me, and that other people have made it out of this too. The problem is, I just don't see myself being strong enough to bear this much longer. I'm weak, and I hurt the people who love me. Most people never change, and I don't see myself as one of the exceptions to any extent. I know talking to you would help, but I really can't bring myself to contact you.

I hope your summer is going smoothly, and am still grateful for your encouragement to send me into honors next year. English my only non-honors last year, and it wasn't because I didn't have the grade to get into honors; in a self-typical way, I happily contributed to my under accheving. Despite that, I am so grateful to have been a student under your direction, and wouldn't change my decision to be in English II for any dollar amount or bribery of illicit substances. That was the most painful thing, really, how you knew I could be such an amazing student, yet I failed to even attempt it. I missed handing in major projects, inculding the midterm, and came to your class more than a few times mentally altered. You knew that; I don't think you were angry either. I just want to make you aware that I understand how my self-sabatoge hurt you and that I am so infinitely sorry for it.

If I don't make it, I hope someone recognizes my letter and directs you to it. I know, apon reading it, one person who would probably know not only who I am, but who I am refering to as "English Teacher," and I know she would give this to you if I asked her to. If not, I could always mention it in my suicide note, simply to bring it to her attention, and she would follow through for me. I would hope that this wouldn't hurt you more, and that you could some how understand what I mean when I say that I can't continue on in this manner. I know you wouldn't be angry at me, and if at all, only at a wasted life and possible future interrupted. Please, forgive me and this. I know this may all seem heavy, so I'm sorry, but I just had to let you know how I feel.

Thanks for crossing the teacher-student boundries and trying to reach out to me, because it really did help. You were an amazing teacher, and despite anything anyone might say or what you might think, you're not a "soft" teacher. It was a joy to be your student, and you taught me some things I don't think I'll ever forget. Thank you for all you've done.

Anyone

All I want to do is tell someone how alone I feel, but that's the trouble with feeling lonely, you don't have anyone to talk to, for all the bullshit people say 'just say something and it'll flow', it never makes it better, trust me, I know from experience. Nothing is easy to do when you hate yourself, most mornings I don't even try to look good anymore, I've given up my hope of that, what's the point, I won't have the guts to talk to anyone, let alone someone I like.

I just dress somewhat nice for myself, to give myself something to feel slightly good about, black is the only colour I always know is in, that's why I wear it. I'm not a member of the black parade, I'm a genuinely lonely person who can't figure out if they actually enjoy being depressed and lonely or whether I really am both of the above but think I can't be that pathetic.

I like listening to depressing songs to embrace my sadness, but they're all so catchy, it gets me going and enjoying it, until I realise how bad I felt moments ago and just give in. my best friend couldn't even tell me he'd moved out of his flat and I criticise him for it, but he doesn't understand me. He doesn't understand the little things matter so much to me, because it's all I have left. The last girl I was interested in criticised how my reactions were so varied, how I had no 'medium' setting, but emotion is all I have inside of me, I don't have any hope any more, I'm just going through the motions, praying one day I'll say something aloud, praying I can get the courage to tell everyone I just want to be saved. I want to save people, I want the world to be a good place.

But I won't let myself.

I'm full of self-importance, self-hatred, self-pity, self-examination, I'm so involved in me that I can't even justify helping anyone else, everybody stopped listening anyway. And I blame you Dave. You're death put me in the worst funk I've ever been in, as bad as I was before, now I just can't… i…

Gemma, you will probably never know how important you were to me, I genuinely loved you, I would've done anything for you at one point, I'm not sure I'd ever have done that for Joe and Joel as much as I insisted I would. That night you told me about that guy basically forcing you to have sex with him I was going to go through your phone and find out where he lived and do whatever I could to him. I wanted to beat him, but for all my threats I wouldn't, because I can never follow through, i couldn't even tell you how I felt, and so I pushed you away, and you reacted, as I knew you would. I like to think I knew you better than you thought, but you were never predictable, you were never boring, you were you, for all your faults, for all your glory, you knew who you were, even if you couldn't see what you wanted to be.

Joel, I'm sorry I'm not a better friend, you should've given up on me a long time ago, I don't pay attention always, I fear seeing you because you're such a good guy and you deserve a better friend than me. You're the nicest person I've ever met and everyone agrees, I love you more than words can say, I fear you as well, because you're the person I wish I was in every single way.

Mum and dad… I resent you, it's a cliché, but I do, mum, when you lied to me about going to a shrink, I've never forgiven you, and I doubt I ever will. You always say you know what I'm going through, but you don't, you didn't have dad, but you had all the girls, and you know you did, you ahd them because you WOULD talk to them, not because youcould, because you would. I don't have that honour. Dad, I'm just sorry I'm not the man you wish I was, every time I talk to you I feel like I've shamed you, I want to make you proud, but I just can't, I'm not anything you are, I love you, but only because we're blood, you make me feel so weak, I know you don't try to, but you just do.

Zoe and mark, I wish you so much happiness, mark you are the most amusing guy ever, the fact you even acknowledge I'm in the house makes me smile because you don't feel like you have to like everyone else, you want to say hello. Zoe, I wish I could still tell you everything, I feel like you abandoned me when I most needed it, but you had a life and boys to contend with, but don't think for a moment I resent you, if it weren't for you I WOULD be dead, you're my big baby sister and you're probably the only person in the world I'll ever be able to be honest with. Please save me

I'm, trying to give up my most horrid addiction, which I can't even type here, I feel such shame for it and I'm afraid it's only time before I give into it again, I would never act upon impulses, it's not in my nature, thankfully, but I hate myself for it. It could hurt me so much I could never explain,. And I'm sorry. To me more than anyone.