January 2011
A few nights ago me and a friend made a deal to commit suicide together this Saturday.
My friend told all 19 students in our class. Most of them tried to talk him out of it by saying they need him.
No one has tried to talk me out of it.
December 2010
We were laying together and you told me you want to marry me some day.
I just smiled and didn’t say a word because we’re so young.
But secretly, I wanted to tell you all I’ve ever wanted is for you to get down on one knee one day and ask me to spend forever with you.
I’d say yes.
I am a straight A student who never talks back and does what she is told.
My secret?
You really shouldn’t trust me with sharp objects. I always find a way to hurt myself.
I asked my best friend how she would react if I told her I was bi and had a crush on her, and she said she would still be my friend but she would never feel the same way. When she asked if I was serious, I scoffed and told her of course not. That really hurt, because I think I just might be.
One week from today I plan on killing myself. I just want one person to realize how broken I am. How I hide behind my laughs and smiles. I just want to have one person that cares.
Have you ever walked into a room and realized everyone has just been talking about you?
I have. It happens all the time. And it hurts.
I was raped when I was 12.
I’m now 16. I broke down a few weeks ago, and told my best friend/boyfriend, sobbing.
I’m sorry, love. I lied.
It wasn’t just that one time. It happened more times than I can count.
I just don’t want you to see me the way I see myself.
I might have cancer.
I’ve had a headache for 3 months constantly. It won’t go away.
I have to get an MRI and a CT scan. They think it’s brain cancer or a brain tumor.
I’m not ready to die. I want to live.
I was raped two months ago. I noticed I was feeling really weird lately. Today, I found out I was pregnant. I will love this baby with everything in me, even if I am only 15, even if he/she was conceived by rape. Because this baby gives me something to want to live for now.
Today, when I got out of the shower, I looked in the mirror and told myself how beautiful I am.
And you know what? I am beautiful. I’m not wearing makeup tomorrow. I don’t care what people say. I’m beautiful.
And at least I’ve got the balls to show who I really am. I’m proud to be me.
My mom and I don’t talk anymore, we haven’t for a couple months now. But every night before i go to sleep i write on her Facebook wall how much I love her and care about her. I miss You mom.
Sometimes I want to die just to see if anyone really cares. I dont mean that they would cry for a few minutes, maybe attend my small funeral, and then move on with their lives like I was never there. My biggest fear in life is that I will never be remembered. The scary thing is I think my biggest fear is becoming a reality.
My principal asked me if I was considering suicide.
I said no, of course. Who would come out and say yes, I am? I’m not strong enough to admit it.
She saw through me. Suggested counseling to my mom. I need it. I know that.
But guess who isn’t in counseling? Guess whose mom thinks it’s all a joke?
I have trouble letting myself get close to others. Why? because it scares me. I’m afraid that if they knew the real me everything would change. That they would treat me differently or leave. I’m going to be alone forever.
When my best friend and her parents fight, she texts me asking if she can live with me. Every time, I say yes. Today, she showed up at my doorstep with a black eye and her backpack. She asked if she could live with me. I’ll always say yes.
When my boyfriend asked me out, all the girls at school were jealous.
They said ‘you are so lucky! He’s perfect!’
They’re right, he is. And I am so scared that one day he will wake up and realize that I am not pretty, not skinny, not funny, and he will leave. I am so, so scared.
Today, I rolled up my sleeve to show my friend where I got rugburn on my arm.
Later, I thought about all the people who can’t do something as simple as that, because they have scars to hide.
So please, don’t hurt yourself, no matter how much you’re already hurting on the inside. Live your life to the fullest. It’ll be okay.
The day you chose her and abandoned me is either the worst or best day of my life. I realized just how much I didn’t matter to you and I also realized I was meant for so much more.
My secret? That bruise on my face…
I didn’t trip. And my cheeks weren’t red because it was cold out. Just because I seem happy doesn’t mean I am. But I wish I didn’t have to hit myself to feel better. Oh, and the bite marks aren’t from my little sister.
Today on the bus, I listened to a little boy talk about how emo kids who cut themselves were so retarded and disgusting. All I could think about was the cuts on my arm hidden underneath my sleeve. I’m so afraid to get help, because I fear that will be the reaction.
My friends have said it to my face. “No one said you were ugly, but you’re not pretty.”
But today, you, the popular jock, the basketball player, looked at me and said, “Your hair is cute today.” I said, “I didn’t feel like fixing it.”
And you said, “You should feel like not fixing it all the time.”
Every time I read a secret on here, it feels like my own. How can a person with so many people like them feel so alone?
My brother is the reason I’m alive. He’s 10 years old and my hero.
I flipped my 4-wheeler as a suicide attempt. That was the day he asked to go with me into the woods because he worried about me when I’m by myself. I love you, Boo. I’ll never leave you.
The other day, I was really sad. You could see that, but you ignored me and told me it was annoying you.
Yesterday, she was really sad. You wouldn’t leave her alone until you knew she was okay, and insisted on hugging her loads. We’ve been dating for 19 months now. I believe you when you say you love me, but please just show me you care.
The truth is- My secrets aren’t worthy of submitting or posting.
My life isn’t worthy of holding onto. I’m not good enough for anyone- even you. I see that now.
I love you, Mom, but I’m not the child you think I am. I always want what I know I can’t have.
I hope something horrible happens to me.
You texted me last night.
Saying you were going to end your life. I told you to not do it. You asked “Why?” I replied to it. And when I saw you this morning, I realized my six-page text message worked.
I’ve actually helped someone. Maybe there is a meaning for my life after all.
Tomorrow is my 19th birthday. I doubt anyone will remember. This year I somehow lost almost all of my friends because I became a commuter. I spend all of my time alone. I am my own worst critic. I don’t believe in love anymore. Happy Birthday to me.
Today my dad sat me down and had a conversation with me about why I’m fat and how I’ve been getting fat for a while now and how I am on my way to obesity. Then he said he was only having the conversation because he loved me and doesn’t want being fat to screw up my life. Thanks, Dad. As if your teenage daughter was unaware of her weight.
Mom, Dad.
You asked “What’s wrong with you?” I just sat there for a second, fighting down the tears. Then I just laughed and walked away.
I can’t tell you how much that hurt. I can’t tell you how much you hurt me, but I wish you could see it for yourselves.
I can’t do this much longer.
My mom cried all day today. Why? her friend had tried to overdose and was in hospital. Remember when I overdosed mom? How you told me I was better off dead? How is that any different from your friend?
I’m your daughter- you could at least pretend to care.
I posted a secret a while ago about being a Christian and thinking gays and lesbians were beautiful.
I got a lot of negative comments about how it shouldn’t be a secret; I should be open about it.
I guess I should’ve included the part about how hard my dad would hit me if he knew I thought that.
When I was 12, a close friend’s dad molested me.
His excuse? He thought I wanted it.
I don’t remember much, but I know I didn’t ask for that.
Did it seem like it you sick bastard?
Did it seem like I wanted it when you ruined my childhood?
Thanks, I now hate men and myself.
This one guy i know is super nice to this mentally handicapped girl who doesn’t have any other friends. But the other day, he was talking about how annoying she is. You used to GMH, but now you make me sick.
To the girl who decided not to live past winter break—
I had a similar promise in eighth grade, I broke it, and now I feel much better.
Don’t do it. This isn’t what your friend would have wanted.
I’m not popular, I’ve never had a boyfriend, and I wear glasses. But I know I have a personality that’s real and fun once you get to know me. When I look in the mirror I see a beautiful girl. I want someone other than my family to tell me that.
No matter how many guys I hang out with.
No matter how much I hate dresses/skirts.
No matter what type of music I listen to.
No matter how many video games I play.
No matter how much of a guy I may seem.
I’m still a girl.
Please don’t forget that.
He’s my best friend. I’ve turned him down so many times in the past.
He told me today that he had suicidal thoughts.
He won’t tell me the reason why.
I’m afraid.
I’m afraid he’ll go through with it. I’m afraid the reason is me.
Today you asked me when I was going to start modeling because I had the perfect body for it.
Wanna know how I got it? Binging, purging, working out of hours, barely being able to walk I’m so sick and tired.
They wouldn’t want me as a model anyway, scars aren’t pretty to them.
And models can smile.
I have had a mask on my face ever since I can remember, always smiling even when I felt like dying.
I took it off when I came to college this year. I don’t know who I am now. I pretended to be perfect for too long.
I’ve read a lot of posts about girls wearing no makeup to school and getting compliments on how pretty they looked that day. So I decided to try it. The only thing that happened was some guy yelled at me “Hey whore! Where’s your makeup today?!”
I don’t think I’ll ever have self esteem again.
I rented “A Chorus Line” last week to watch with my family. Everything was great, until we got to Paul’s monologue. My mom turned off the TV and left the room. I asked why she did, only to get a speech on how she thinks Gays are disgusting and shouldn’t be corrupting our minds like this.
Coming out is going to be fun.
My little sister is at her abusive, alcoholic father’s for the weekend.
She called my mom tonite at 8. He found out and screamed at her. Mom thought she said “ow” before hanging up.
I’m so scared. I love my sister so much. Please god, PLEASE let her be okay.
I’m slowly dying from my own mind. Every day I cry because of the suicidal thoughts, the depression, the pain. If this ever gets posted, mom I need help. Please. I don’t know how much longer I can fight this alone.
I hate the cold. But I always wear a light jacket in the coldest winter. Why? Because I feel like I deserve to be cold. I deserve to feel numb. Maybe it’ll get me sick enough, that I won’t have to keep fighting.
Hello winter, I have missed you.
There was a girl who was always singing prayers. We all always laughed at her. She wasn’t very pretty and her voice wasn’t like a big rockstars, but she still sang everyday. One day, she stopped singing. Her best friend told us her dad molested her. She hoped god would help her. I’m so ashamed.
People sometimes ask me if I’m okay, I lie and say I’m fine.
I promised myself that the next person to ask me I’m okay, I would tell them the truth and how I’m not okay.
I don’t know what I’m more scared of, knowing I won’t keep my promise or that no one cares enough to ask.
My dad raped me when I was 14. I’m 16 now. I’ve never told anyone, and he doesn’t think I remember as I was heavily drugged. The worst part is I have to see him every day, smile and pretend we are the perfect family.
Out of all the secrets I’ve submitted, if this is the only one that ever makes it, I’ll be happy.
My secret is that I pretend I’m okay, every single day, then when I go to bed, I cry. And then I fall asleep and dream about the people I miss. Pathetic, I know. But even the toughest ones can hurt.
When she wears her bikini or a short top, you all laugh and whisper how fat she is.
I wish you would stop. I’m not that much thinner than her, in fact I’m not thin at all.
I wish I was brave enough to do what she does.
You think I like being like this? You think I do it on purpose so I get asked “What’s wrong?” ten times a day?
No. I’m just sick and tired of trying to be happy all the time. I can’t even fake it anymore.