Standing on the edge of one of the tallest buildings in New York. Staring at the blue city lights. Beautiful but hopeless. Empty. Meaningless. How could a world full of people, not notice my pain. How did I get here? You don’t just suddenly “want to end it all” because of once incident… it comes from living a life full of pain that just does not seem to stop… I can’t handle it anymore. The emptiness. The loneliness. The pain swallowing you up, suffocating the very air you breathe. No one is even around to notice that I’m standing here. I have passed a thousand faces and not one stopped to ask why there are tears streaming down my face. If I jump… when I jump, will anyone even notice my body lying there… cold, dead on the concrete floor… As cold and as hard as the life that I have lived. They would probably just walk around me and not even notice the tears still streaming down my lifeless eyes.

I suddenly wake up, overwhelmed and paralysed. It was as if shifting from one reality into another. It was just a dream. But yet it’s not; it’s my life… my fears, my pain, my past. I lie in my bed, motionless, staring at the wall. The reality of “re-living the pain” all over again consumed me.

Memories raced through my mind. Memories of my life… bouncing back and forth in blurs and blank patches… loud booming voices in my head, screaming to end it all. Am I going crazy? No. This is pain and all I want is out of it. But I don’t want to die. I want someone to listen, someone to care… someone to even to just stop and notice the look in my eyes. But that’s asking the impossible. No one seems to care. Everyone is so consumed within themselves and their own lives. And those that notice prefer to walk on by because “they would rather stay out of it”… avoid it. If they pretend it doesn’t exist, then maybe it won’t exist. But just because you ignore it, doesn’t mean it’s not there. It just means you made it worse. You were just one more person that added to the pain of isolation and desperation for a way out. You became one more reason to make me want to end it all.

My thoughts race faster thinking about the details of my dream. The harsh reality of the pain I felt all over again. I’ve come so far, yet it felt like I was still there. I have remained silent for so many years. I am voiceless. Now I wonder how many more people out there feel exactly the way I do? How many did I pass through the streets and not even notice the pain in their eyes? Am I as guilty as the rest of them? Consumed in my life, my pain, that I don’t even notice that others feel the same. I’ve always felt so alone… yet, I’m not. Deep inside I know there are others out there have lived a life like mine… and many that have lived lives that are far worse. Most end up in suicide. I know; I tried. I failed. I feel like I am stuck in this horrific nightmare that keeps repeating itself over and over again. Trapped in silence. Trapped in pain. Trapped in emptiness. Trapped with so much to say but no one to listen. Trapped, screaming for a way out… yet, I have no voice to be heard. But all I can do is cry… but I cry inside so no one will notice… because no one will care.

I have tried for so long to pretend my life never existed. That I was maybe even delusional. That maybe even if I pretend hard enough, or ignore it enough, it will go away. Then maybe, just maybe, I will “seem normal” just like the other people in this world. Yet through my life, I have met so many like me. I am normal… but not the way the world defines it. I am normal, I am like other people: I am scared, I am scarred, I am alone, I have been abused, I am in pain and I desperately want someone to care. That is normal.

People prefer to dose you up on psychiatric drugs to numb out the problems or send you to mental institutes in order to distance themselves from having to deal with problems… to free their own lives of having to deal with this “burden”. This is the world’s answer. Rather than actually dealing with the pain itself. Rather numb it out, or get rid of this person so they can go on with their own petty selfish lives. It’s easier that way. It’s quicker. It’s selfish. Rather turn them into mindless lifeless robots than fix the problems that caused it… maybe it’s also because they were the ones that helped cause it too.

So how did I get here? How did I end up on the edge of the building? I was about to jump. How did I end up just wanting to give up? Where did it start…

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