How I tried to die

I’ve been through a lot, and sometimes it feels like nobody really notices. Growing up, I often felt neglected and invisible. I’d see other kids being cared for and loved by their parents and feel jealous. Even when I tried to ask for care or affection, my parents were too busy, and eventually I stopped asking. Over time my guardian, who used to be kinder, became stressed and frustrated, and she started taking out her anger on me and my sister. I’ve had to step in to protect my little sister, but it’s exhausting and scary.

Because of all this, there were times when I didn’t want to be here anymore. I’ve tried to take my own life more than 25 times — not because I truly wanted to die, but because I was desperate for the pain to stop and for someone to finally see me. I was terrified of dying, of the pain, and yet I still searched for ways to escape. Deep down, I think I just wanted someone to notice, hug me, and see that I was hurting.

A year ago, one of my friends went through surgery and became depressed. She attempted suicide, but her parents caught her. Afterward, everyone at school supported her. Watching that made me wonder: if I tried again, would someone finally notice me too? Would I finally get the kindness I’ve been craving? I couldn’t go through with it — the fear stopped me — and maybe that’s why I’m still here, writing this now.

I’m still struggling, but I’m trying to hold on. I care about my sister, and I try to stay strong for both of us. Sometimes I still feel unseen. Sometimes I still feel like giving up. But there’s also a part of me that wants to heal, to be noticed for something good, and to find people who care. Maybe writing this here is my way of reachin

g out.