Friday, May 09, 2003
::sighs:: Alright, everyone, this is something I have been debating about for a long time, so I ask that you read this first part very carefully before you continue...
The 'undelivered letter' that I am about to post was written several months ago, right after Chris and I had broken up. At first I did not want to show it to anyone...but then, after watching "Bang, Band, You're Dead!" in History and feeling sickened by the simularities between the movie and my letter...well, I felt it needed to be done. This is a part of me that I don't want to hide from anyone anymore...
There are only three people that know I went through a really major depression...though I don't think they know how major... The rest of you, I am ready to finally come out and tell the truth to.
However, I ask that you take into mind a few things before continuing:
-this letter is not directed to anyone...or maybe it was a mixture of people. But it was not intentionally meant for one person!
-this is very hard for me to do so I ask that you please treat it like something sacred... Do not view this flippantly or speak of it thus.
-while writing this letter, though it was inspired by real events, it was meant as a work of fiction. I have never considered suicide to be a real way out...though I have thought on it (as you will see in this letter).
Before you continue, I am warning you of this...this is a disturbing look inside of me!
There are some of you that should stop now, turn around and leave this journal...come back on a happier entry. I know I probably wouldn't want to see one of my friends like this... I am urging you, if you feel uneasy at all, please turn away now because it will only get harder!
For those of you who are actually staying, I am asking that, once you read this letter, you never speak of it to anyone else. If you wish to discuss this with me, that is fine...but please understand this was written several months ago and I am *way* over this stage...
I just felt it was time to come to truth about a few things...
That said, here is the letter...and a final warning. If you don't want to be either depressed or see me in such a state that I am begging you to leave.
::sighs...then nods:: Okay, here we go then...
----------------------------------------------
My dear friend-
I was talking to you online tonight, just as we have been talking every night for the past week at such a time. My day had been one of the worst days ever and all I needed was someone to talk to. But you were far too busy with your own problems to worry about me. Just like everyone else...
�Let�s pile our problems on Angela! She hasn�t got enough of her own!�
�What? You say the weight of these burdens are killing you? Come now, don�t be silly.�
�Let me tell you about my day...�
�...my life...�
�...my heartache!�
What if I don�t want to hear?! What if I can�t handle it?
�Quickly, we must give her more, she can still think clearly!�
�Suffocate her with our woes...�
�...and our worries...�
�...and our strife!�
I can�t breathe. Please, just leave me alone!
�But you are alone.�
�Always alone. Poor, Angela, no one to confide in.�
�She trusts no one.�
Maybe if you would listen to me!
And all the while those voices in my mind taunt me!
�Make your face a mask, Angela. Don�t let them see your pain.� �Hide it! To show your heart is to show your weakness.� �Weakness, Angela! You can�t have them thinking your weak.� �That�s it, smile a pretty smile. Nod your head understandingly.�
It�s all an act... I can�t break free. I can�t remember who I am!
�Who cares who you are?� �Surely not us...� �...surely not them!�
Stop it! Stop it! I can�t take it!
I tried to confide in you tonight, my friend, but you were far too caught up in your own troubles to hear mine. Did you have any idea that at the moment I was fingering a knife with a longing intent, running my fingers carelessly up and down its slender blade? No, you probably didn�t... You were far too �depressed� to care.
Hah, depressed?! You thought you were depressed?! Please! You don�t even know what depression is, do you? No, trust me, you don�t. You can�t possibly understand depression until you�ve reached that point in your life where you no longer care whether you live or you die the next day. Where you find yourself contemplating the burn of a rope as it slides across your neck...or the sting of a blade as it slowly cuts through your wrist...or the sound of a gun as you cock it with every intention of firing that silver bullet straight into your skull.
Depression...? My friend, have you lain awake at night as I have, cursing yourself because you need an escape...but are too big of a coward to take that final step? When the voices in your head are the only ones you trust now? And what do they tell you...? Oh, just listen.
�One quick pull of the rope...� �...slice of the blade...� �...pulling of the trigger and it will all be over!� �Forever!� �No more worries...� �...no more pain...� �...just an infinite sleep.� �So go on!� �What are you waiting for?�
�What�s wrong...�
�...are you scared?�
Yes! Yes, I�m scared! I don�t want to die!
�Oh yes you do!�
�We can read it in your thoughts...�
�...in your heart.�
�You know it�s the only way.�
�Crack!�
�Slice!�
�Bam!...that�s all it�ll take.�
Will it hurt...?
�Only for a little.�
�It won�t hurt very long.�
�Besides, you�re numb to the pain now, aren�t you?�
Yes...Yes, I am numb!
�You could feel again, you know.�
�All it takes is that final step.�
�Death comes for us all in the end, doesn�t He? Cheat Him at His own game!�
�Show no mercy!�
No mercy!
�He�s coming for you, Angela.�
�Can�t you feel his hands upon you already?�
�Beat him to the final blow! Show no weakness!�
No weakness...
�Crack!�
�Slice!�
�Bam!...that�s all it�ll take.�
Am I scaring you yet, my friend? Are you feeling sick to your stomach by what goes on in my mind? Hah, you don�t even know the half of it! These voices, they are always there. Always prattling, always screaming at me. Sometimes I don�t even know whether I can make it through the day with having to listen to them.
�Do you honestly think anyone will miss you?�
�Please! They�ll miss someone to load their problems on.�
�They�ll miss �poor, little Angela�...but just give them a year...�
�...a month...�
�...a day! They�ll get over it.�
They�ll forget I ever existed.
�You�ll have been merely a passing shadow...�
�...a whispered song...�
�...a forgotten presence.�
It�s beginning to sound like such sweet release now...
�Crack!�
�Slice!�
�Bam!...that�s all it�ll take.�
Oh, do not worry so much, my friend. I will still be around, even when I am gone... Though you will truly wish I wasn�t. I will visit you in your dreams and I will kiss your forehead tenderly. You will look upon me with the eyes of a man seeing an angel... But it�s then that I�ll begin to whisper...
�It�s your fault!�
�All your fault...�
�...that I am dead.�
You have killed me. It was you that drove me to mount that chair and...
Crack!
It was you that forced me to take up the blade and...
Slice!
It was you that brought the gun to my head and...
Bam!
It was all you...it was your fault.
You�ll be haunted by these memories forever...and ever...and ever! I will never allow you to forget them. It will drive you insane just as it has driven me insane. You will awaken thinking it was all a dream until you turn and find the blue rose that I left for you on the night stand and you will know that it was not a dream...and that it was your fault!
Depression...? Trust me, you don�t even begin to understand the feeling of depression. You will never know the feeling of depression...and in what small bit of sense I have left I pray that you never do.
And now I take up my knife and I kiss it�s blade. Oh, it sliced my lip! I can taste my blood... Warm and metallic as it runs along my tongue. Such sweet blood...the supply of my life as it runs from me. Oh, lovely blade, would that you can do the same to my wrists...
Just one quick slice and that�s all it will take...
Slice!
It is done... A fountain of that crimson liquid running from my pale wrist.
Oh, the open wound burns... You�ll forgive the blood marks on this page, won�t you? I hope it does not damage too much of the writing. Such a pity to lose my final testament.
I can�t write properly. My hand is going numb. I feel somewhat lightheated.. The room is shifting.
