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I’ve seen countless shorts, videos, and comments about suicide.
People say: “Think about your mom, dad, grandparents, your dog or any pet, your friends, anyone you know. They love you. So don’t do it.”
But let me respond — from the perspective of someone standing on the edge:
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Dad — why don’t you talk to me?
Why can’t I remember a single time you played with me?
Why do you mock me, laugh at me, make others bully me?
Why are you never proud of me?
I know you work hard, but is it really impossible to spare just five minutes a day?
Or even just two minutes in a month to ask how your child is?
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Mom — why do you fight with me over everything?
Why do you taunt me, make me feel like I’m always wrong?
Why did you steal my childhood and force me into the role of a second mother?
Why didn’t you let me play, paint, dance, or sing like other kids?
Why do you compare me with my siblings until they hate me too?
I can’t remember the last time you treated me like your daughter — not your burden.
A smile, a hug, a pat on the head — is that too much to ask?
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Brother — I raised you. I took care of you.
You saw me breaking, yet you sped up the process.
Do you remember how you blamed me for everything, how you made Mom hate me?
Do you know how deeply that broke me?
I tried to protect you — so why did you give me reasons to die?
Was your hatred really that deep?
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Sister, little kid — even you joined in.
You’ve changed a bit now, but I still remember.
I took you to school, protected you, gave you my chocolates and my love.
So why did you help tear me apart?
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Grandpa — you were my friend once. Then I found out your truth.
Why do you drink, scream, abuse, and destroy everything?
Why did you have to be another man who hurt me?
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Grandma — why did you humiliate me in front of the whole family because of my skin, because I’m a girl?
Why do you play your games behind everyone’s back?
Why did you become a puppeteer of cruelty?
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My two friend-dogs — why did you die so early?
I couldn’t even say goodbye.
I tried to save you.
I told everyone what really happened.
They didn’t hit you that day… so did they kill you later?
Was it painful?
I should never have left you.
They told me about your death 15 days later.
I asked everyone — they stayed silent.
Was poison really that brutal?
I went back to that place. A snake bit me.
I thought I’d see you again.
I’m sorry I wasn’t there.
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Principal Sir — you saw my grades for 10 years, my achievements.
But not my pain?
Why didn’t you ask any questions?
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Classmates — I don’t even care anymore.
But I remember how none of you talked to me, played with me — for two whole years.
You chose silence. What could I do?
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My 5th class classmate — you died.
The only memory I have is scolding you.
But I also remember your last smile.
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Coaching Teacher — I asked you for help.
You laughed. You mocked me in front of everyone.
One month later, I attempted suicide.
You still don’t know.
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To everyone who saw my pain and looked away —
Why?
Why did you turn your backs when I begged for help?
Why did you make me feel like suicide was my only answer?
Why am I falling apart like this?
Why are there blood clots on my body, bruises on my spirit?
So don’t talk online about mental health if you won’t even listen to our side.
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Don’t tell us to care about family and friends — some of us never got that kind of love.
At least tell us: “You matter — for yourself.”
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And remember:
Not everyone is remembered forever.
People move on.
Family is not the same for everyone.
And love isn’t always where it’s supposed to be.
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