Last November I was walking to work when I took a different turn than normal. I found myself over one of a few bridges that was mabye a 30 Ft drop into shallow water. In those moments I stood there, until I was late for work, and I continued standing there. That day I was so tired I thought about slipping between the concrete rails wondering if it would be enough to stop all the hurting.

That wasn't the first time I've had those sort of thoughts but it was the first that a Job made me have those sort of thoughts. I wasn't making enough to live, I was unhappy being virtually yelled at every day by customers who I strove to make happy. And what hurt me the most is I didn't feel like I could tell anyone. I was afraid to be weak but there I was, as weak as can be ready to go.

Luckily for me I had a girlfriend, who's voice I knew I needed to hear but wasn't sure if she was awake yet. So I gambled on giving her a call. She answered and I told her I couldn't do this anymore, I told her what I had done and what I had felt other than suicidal as I was afraid to be hospitalized. That day I wrote a long resignation letter detailing the troubles I faced, my thoughts, my feelings, and everything in between. I wanted to let my boss and singular coworker at the time it wasn't there fault, I wanted to let them know I was tired of being strong. But fear overcame me once again, so when I quit, I sent a simple resignation letter citing my mental and physical health which had been declining for several months as I avoided doctors appointments because I could not afford them.

I hated that job, but now in the face of insecurities I wish I had it, I wish I was stronger, I wish I could've kept going. I wish I was transparent so that I may ask for it back. I wish I was as strong as myself 10 years ago. That kid had more problems than I do now but he was so much stronger. Mabye the pressure hadn't built up yet, or mabye it was just me being naive then.

I love helping people, just as so many people tried helping the sick boy I once was. I saw so much kindness from strangers and everyone really, but mabye that's just because they knew of the dire straights I was in. They could see it. But now as my illness because more invisible as I put up fake smiles and try to present strength I feel so much more weak than the little boy I was. I wanted to help everyone be happy as so many people did for me.

I'm afraid I lost my chances at helping anyone because I couldn't handle the pressure. I want to waiver, but I keep pushing foward because the little boy did, but now those memories are starting to fade, the people in my life who helped me the most are older now, sicker too. Yet I can't help them. I can't even be there for them because I have so little. No car, no money, no job. All I have is hope. And with that hope I'm afraid if I lose the person who helped me so much before I can see them again that hope may go too. I wanted to make him proud, I wanted to show him what I could do. But I feel like I'm failing, because I hated my job.