My parents think I’m going to kill myself. They’re worrying, hesitating at the door. I can’t blame them – I just spent more than an hour curled up in the corner of my room, a half an hour wandering aimlessly around the house, and about ten minutes whining and crying in the shower. Occasionally I would thump my hand or my foot to the floor in frustration.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. My chest feels tight and my head felt heavy earlier, but after the nap on the floor it’s a bit better. My throat keeps wanting to make all kinds of irritating noises. My mouth wants to scream, my body wants to convulse and hit things in a rage. The weather isn’t helping either. It’s too damn hot.
Rage. That’s what I call it when I’m like this. In my mind, I’m ‘in a rage.’ I guess that term came from when I looked up the word rage in the dictionary, and one definition was ‘strong emotions, see: PASSION.’ So even if I don’t scream and cry and throw a physical tantrum, I can still feel all these burning things inside.
When asked “What’s wrong?” of course I always shrug or reply, “I don’t know.” In my rages, I don’t want to have to explain. Words aren’t sufficient enough to convey how I’m feeling. Even a-
Oh. That was them - my parents. They called for the first of many times I’m sure they’ll check on me tonight. And if I don’t answer even one of their calls, they’ll surely assume the worst and rush home. So no loud music or accidentally leaving both phones upstairs.
“Testing, testing,” I heard my mother’s voice through the speaker. “Emergency contact systems testing. All systems go?”
“Huh?”
“All systems go?” she repeated.
“What does that mean?” I asked densely. I wanted to make her laugh, and it worked. The static of her chuckle rushed into my ear.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Alright. I love you.”
“Love you,” I replied.
“Talk to you later. Bye.”
I hung up, and went back to the computer to type this.
So back to, why? Why do I have these surges of feelings, this urge to wander and this want for attention? There are all different reasons. The main one is probably because I’m a hormonal teenager, but it’s other things too. Sometimes I think I’m lonely, other times I’m frustrated that my weekend is moving too fast, or that I’m too stubborn to ask for what I really want. And sometimes, the problem for my bad attitude is simply that I’m hungry. Tonight, I think I’m truly not sure what it is.
But again, this heat doesn’t help. I absolutely hate being hot. I feel like the heavy air is overbearing. I sweat and smell and my hair get pressed down against my head. Ugh.
In case you’re wondering about my thoughts on the subject, I think it’d be stupid to kill myself. You hear of teens committing suicide every day, but my situation doesn’t really have that as an option. I’m too blessed. I’m in such an amazing family and have such a contented life that if I killed myself, it would be a betrayal of all those abused and underprivileged kids I agonize about all the time. Plus, it would accomplish nothing. I think that seven out of ten of my little rages are because of time, or lack thereof. My weekends, my Saturdays always slip through my hands before I build up enough energy to do or accomplish something. Dying would just delete all the time I have not yet wasted, all the opportunities I have to do whatever with my life.
I once read a review that stated that most stories/poems on this website were about one of two things: hopelessness or love. I guess this could be about love, because my life is so filled with it, but it is definitely not about hopelessness. There is no way in hell I'm gonna kill myself, and I needed to type this so I could confirm it with my heart. I just needed to get this all out, to put it in words and stare at the little black characters on the screen so they could be organized in my head. Also, I'm not saving this to my computer. If my parents saw a document labeled, 'My Parents Think I'm Gonna Kill Myself' I'm sure they would read it, and I always feel very uncomfortable when they read things like this.
And anyways, I wouldn't know the first thing about how to kill myself.
