Look, I have something to say. I know a lot has happened, but I still want you to stay. People say, “let people go” like they actually know. You can’t tell me to get over it and pretend he wasn’t under me. You can’t tell me I deserve better no matter what he’s done to me. You can’t tell me to hate him and alienate myself from him.

Same thing with depression. Music works for you? Great. It may not work for me.

You see, I wake up and I don’t know who I am. I try to do the things I used to love, only to find I don’t love them anymore. I try not to cry over nothing, but it’s so hard when all I want to do is die. I walk around like a corpse transitioning to be a zombie. It can’t be, I don’t see me.

I remember all the great things I believed I’d become and break down because I don’t see myself becoming them anymore. I’m not really sure what it is, it’s losing me, it’s losing you, it’s losing sight of my dreams. It’s the pieces I have left of myself, receding and proceeding to diminish me completely. No really, I miss my smile. I miss myself. I miss walking a mile for my dreams. I want a reason to live, but nothing really matters. Not my love for art, not to be in your heart.

During the day I laugh and smile like a child, like I’m really happy and in bliss. I can’t say anything to anyone because they’ll ask, “What’s wrong?” I don’t have the answer so I keep my mouth shut. People are sad with reason and I’m just sad with no real reason, or perhaps I don’t know it. Things are really bad, I can’t even leave my bed.

See? I have a bed, a roof over my head, choices on what to eat but I’m still sad. I’m sad over something I don’t know and it’s making me mad.

If you can think of any reason as to why I should live, please tell me.

Tell me it’ll get better and that I’ll stop being so bitter. Tell me to listen to music and gather my thoughts. Tell me to snap out of it and just love life. I’ll be sure to end it, only because nothing can mend it. You can tell me your opinion but I wouldn’t recommend it. What’s there to live for if I can’t make anything okay?

I’d rather go away because it seems no one cares enough to want me to stay. People speak of suicide a lot but do they know, really? Why tell someone to live when you can’t give them reason? When you’re not going to help them become better?

I wish I could say it’s the comparison, that I compare myself to people and compete a lot, but it’s not. I wish your hate and lack of faith in me could persuade me to prove you wrong. I wish I could overflow my pores with drugs and alcohol, but that’s not me. But I’m not me so I guess anything goes now.

Not failure, not doubt, nothing can save me. Nothing can make me rise from the ashes and hear echoes of purpose again. Even if I tried to be OK, I wouldn’t know where to begin. I keep thinking that maybe I need a win, but I know that everything’s in the trash.

Art left me too. I think that’s it; the heart was where the art was, so when art left me I actually fell apart.

I hope you’ll enjoy life without me and maybe fuck the system when I’m no longer there. Please fuck it for me, fuck it and make it scream. When J Cole said, “Everything grows, it’s destined to change”, he was perhaps talking about me. You see then, I didn’t lose myself because I lost you; I lost you because I lost myself. I loved you, and I loved me too, but our love wasn’t true otherwise I wouldn’t be here.

This is my goodbye. Take care and smile.


Tell: What advice would you give the writer?

FunDza cares very deeply about the safety of all our readers and writers. If you or someone you know is struggling with depression or has suicidal thoughts, don’t hesitate to reach out to people when you feel this desperate. LifeLine has a free number you can call to speak to someone who can help: Call 0861 322 322 or 021 461 1111 and remember, you are not alone.