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I can just remember though, copying people. I don't know why, and it was so long ago
it just felt right. I needed to get their words out, till I could say something. It's hard to explain, and I never really noticed, or remember noticing till my sister was annoyed. I wanted to make her happy so I tried to stop. The more I tried the more I did it. I don't even know why. I tired to tell people I couldn't stop, but they never seemed to believe me. Were they just better at stopping then I was. My parents and sister were older than me maybe they got more practice. My sister typically was annoyed when I couldn't do something she could. My parents were too sometimes. This was different though, it wasn't like when they thought I wasn't trying hard enough, or I should know something by then. It was like they didn't even think it should take effort.
What was wrong with me. Was it just my family. They were mostly who I was around when this started, as it probably started around three. Others didn't seem to have this happen to them. Maybe I just didn't belong here, but where would I? Anywhere? I would cough till my throat hurt. My dad would say I was faking, but I wasn't, and who would fake a cough? That would be weird. I hadn't yet known about getting out of school and work, or getting medicine, insurance money, or just wanting sympathy/attention, I didn't know any of the reasons people think of when faking a cough. I just figured I had one.
I would think about wanting to die at this time. I didn't know why. I didn't even have anything to go off of death, but movies. They all seemed to make it seem scary, but mostly sad. I'd get sad when watching them, and thinking about them, but my mind drifted. It never showed what happened afterward, but people seemed scared of it, so I figured I should be too. Everyone was sad when I came to death, and I knew I would be too. I was sad when it was a movie charictar, and couldn't imagine how sad it would be if it was someone I knew. This made me nervous that someone I knew would die. Me, or anyone I knew could die at anytime.
What did happen next. It was bad, probably. I felt sad, and scared a lot anyways. Perhaps it was better, but no one else seemed to wonder this. Maybe life was just for them, and not for me. They may think I was odd. How did one die, because I'd only ever really seen stuff like accidents happening, people being killed, or hear of people dying of old age. I don't even think I knew of fatal illnesses back then. I didn't know what someone would do who wanted to die. Cause an accident. People fall off high places, and they say to be careful, not to fall off, or you might accidentally die. Perhaps, I could make myself accidentally fall off of a building, or out a window. I was a toddler who wanted to die. That combined with a limited view of the world, reality, whatetever it was, the world this made sense to me. I don't get it now. I guess I didn't understand the word accident quite yet. It's hard though, because it was so long ago. Memories are a bit fragmented. Perhaps my mom would know, how I could, but first where you went. This might answer why no one seemed to come back. Was it by choice, or were they stuck there. Did they get there, and realize it was better. If they did why wouldn't they come back to tell the people they love, they're okay, when they were sad, and missed them. Maybe they would be stuck, here. Then if they waited then would see the people they loved, and they could all stay in this better place. Yes, I know I'm describing the afterlife, but as far as I know, hadn't heard of it yet. That's to come.
I asked my mom what would happens after you die. I quickly added, because I was sacred. I didn't know if people would think I was wird for wanting this. They may give me looks, critiasze, or ignore me. They wouldn't understand. Little did I know these thoughts are criminalized. She said it won't happen for a long time, and not to worry. I asked again what happened afterwards. She said I'd go to heaven. I asked what heaven was. She said it was whatever I wanted it to be. So pretty much my thoughts were normal, or did people not know about this heaven place. She even seemed sure, unlike when she was guessing, or unsure. She didn't seem like she was hiding anything. Why were others not wanting to die like me? I said I wanted to go, and said I would when the time came, or a long time. Something like that, but I said I wanted to die then, and she just gave me this look. It wasn't mad, or sad, but scared... Of me. I never saw her scared of me. Why was I scary? No one had ever been scared of me. Her, my dad, and older sister scared me sometimes when they were mad, but I wasn't mad. Keep in mind, as I said before I was scared about people I knew dying, and especially them, because of how much I loved and cared about them. Granted I did think, a little bit if they'd miss me, but probably the least. Also movies showed people dying, and others getting over it fairly quickly, and seeming to move on. I knew I was typically more upset, and upset longer so I figure this wouldn't happen to me, Just pointing out, how I still very much lacked the ability to see others points of view. Granted I'm not sure my mom really care about me now, but I thought she loved me. Yet, I drew a blank as to why I got this response. Even now that I'm not sure she loves me I know it's more complicated, but I don't think people get what it's like wanting to die to that, young.
It's different, and it really only bothers me when I think about it a lot. Like what's it like not wanting to die, ever. I mean, to think back of time when you had never had that thought cross your mind. You know about death, but you never wanted to die. It's just so disconnecting. Like nobody feels like this, or relates to this in the same way. Nobody get's, how little I really experienced when I felt like this. To just look back, and think we're my thoughts that dark. They're normal to me, but I don't know anything else. I thought stuff, like well I tried life it's just not for me, but I didn't even realize the equivalent, and wonder was I that unhappy, I mean I was down, or sometimes just daydreaming of something better. I was three, and I already tried life long enough. To realize that there's a point in old age, that's supposed to be about accepting death. They've lived how, long and it's a challenge, but for me to understand that. So much I just don't get. To hear it's selfish to want to die? I don't understand. On some level I can get that, but it's hard to comprehend. It's like they don't understand at all. To me it's pretty normal wanting to die that young, but I didn't know others wanted to die back then. It makes me sad now, but back then it didn't cross my mind. How do they want me to feel? I mean about myself, it's not like wanting to die, for me started out with anyone's perspective, so they think it's selfish. How am I supposed to feel, or respond to that? That's all for now I guess, more I'll add later.
Last Edited By: kaylac Feb 22 16 2:12 AM. Edited 2 times