I wish my parents cared enough to listen. They’re both so busy dealing with my all older sisters’ mental health that they don’t realize the youngest can be in pain, too. I have to hide how I feel and pretend I’m happy all the time to keep my whole family going because they’re all openly falling apart. They didn’t notice all three times when I was going to kill myself, and it was my girlfriend who lives in another state that I met online who saved me. They don’t notice when I slice my skin open, nor when I’m sobbing while writing letters in the middle of the night. I start wondering if I should even leave letters, because if they didn’t listen while I was alive, do they really want to listen when I’m gone, or is it done out of pity? Guilt? Even if I do try to vent, it’s taken as a personal attack towards their parenting job. Apparently me being fucked up is calling them a failure. Mom just cries and says she’s a bad mom when I try, and dad says “God” saves everyone, so I just gave up.