My name is Jake and I'm sixteen, 11th grade, and I live on Oahu, in Hawaii. I'm annoying. I'm weird. I'm stupid. I hate everyone and everyone hates me. I hate myself. I hate the way I talk, the way I look, the way I think. I grew up with things like Star Wars and Harry Potter, idolizing talented, witty, heroic white people. I look at myself and see an insignificant brown kid who is too lazy to do anything and I realize I will never ever be like the people I admire. I basically have no friends. There are people that I sometimes talk to in school but that's it. No one invites me to stuff. No one wants me around. I don't blame them. I'm so annoying and stupid. I get all hyper about stuff and laugh at things that aren't funny. And I KNOW that this isn't me but I don't know how to be me anymore. I did for a little bit, in ninth grade, when I was living in Colorado for a little while. That was probably the best time of my teenage life. Now I can't change back for some reason. I try to do the same thing I did in ninth grade. Literally every day I manage to convince myself that the reason I'm so messed up now is because of whatever thing I'm doing different, and I'll try to do the thing that I did before but I just end up being so disappointed every day. Every day I drag myself through school. I feel like I'm dead. I feel like a ghost, walking through life and not really being a part of it. At lunch I sit with this one guy who I absolutely hate being around, and after school I have a pretty tiring walk back home that makes me feel like even more of a loser. Every day I have to walk across this freeway overpass, and I always think about jumping off of it someday. Basically I feel like I've messed myself up beyond repair. I can't do anything right. Every time I try to build my confidence and tell myself that NOW I'm doing it right, I just end up being severely disappointed by the end of the day. Nothing ever works. I'm an atheist. I don't believe that any higher power is judging me. If I were to kill myself, the only consequences would be that my family would be sad. But what does that matter? In the end they will just be dust in the ground and no one will remember them or that kid who killed himself in a hundred years. For me, suicide feels like a way to just give up. Real life won. I'm too lazy to succeed in school and get a successful career. I do sit down to do my homework every day but I can't even bring myself to study for tests or do the homework well. What's in store for me? No good, fulfilling career seems to be on the horizon. No girl has ever ever liked me romantically. Only once did I ever meet a girl that I really felt like I could "get" but I'll never see her again and I'm pretty sure that there is no one else like her. If I were to keep on living, all I can foresee is that I would get a boring job, live in a small apartment, marry someone I don't love, maybe have kids who I will probably mess up too, and then die. I'll never be the way I was before. I've tried everything and nothing works. I'll never be successful. I'll never find anyone that I truly love. And every day I have to drag myself through school and watch all my old friends live their lives and go on to be successful and happy while I'm sitting alone in my room with literally absolutely completely NOTHING to do. The school year had just started and I have no schedule changes along the way. Nothing is going to change. I'm going to feel this way every single day for a year. Can I expect senior year to be better? It's not likely to be any better than now. So what am I still trying for? There's no god to live for, no friends to live for, no career to live for, no life to live for. Things are never going to get better. I don't know how I'm going to get through this WEEK, much less my whole life. You might think that it's as easy as just being able to "be myself" again. It's not. I've tried everything. I try every single day. And every time I try it just gets worse and worse. Every day it gets worse and worse. When I try to picture myself in a year, I just can't do it. I can't imagine that I'll still be alive by then. I'm pretty sure now that somewhere along the road I'll snap, I won't be able to take it, and I'll throw myself off that overpass. Why shouldn't I? Is there any hope for a good life still, in the real world? Tell me what reason there is to live for MYSELF--not my parents or community, but for me.