I’m sure I don’t have it nearly as bad as so many people on here: I really have a perfect life, pretty much, it’s just I do I decent job of screwing things up. I know this sounds really emo, and I totally hate that, but I feel like I’m not allowed to be real with anybody, so I’m pretty much falling with nothing to hang on to. I don’t want to whine, but I guess this is kind of what this thing is about, so here it goes: I think about killing myself every day, and I can’t get to sleep every night because I’m already dreading the next day. I can’t go a week without cutting myself or else I get freaky angry and depressed about myself, and even while I’m doing that I’m way too disgusted with my emo, bitchy self to control how much I cut. I’m always stuck telling people lame cover stories that it’s a miracle anybody believes about why the skin on my arm is practically gone. Of course, I can’t live with myself after that, so I always get wasted or baked right after. This sucks, because I’m supposed to be an athlete, which is hard to do when you smoke a bowl every week. I’m becoming a total druggie emo kid and I hate it! I want fucking out! And it seems like it’s fair anyway, because why the fuck should I live here? If I could give my life to somebody I totally would, but that’s not going to happen, so I guess I’m going to waste it. I’ve tried to die at least 5 times, but I’ve kind of lost count this summer. I don’t know why it never works. I thought 30 advil was supposed to kill you, but apparently not. I’ve never tried telling my friends for these reasons
#1: They wouldn’t believe me
#2: They would hate me: I’m notoriously the really happy one. See what fakeness can do?
#3: They would laugh
#4: They wouldn’t care
I’m never going to tell my parents, because it would hurt them too goddamn much. Yeah, I know how selfish that is, but I don’t want to be there to see it. I know, it’s horrible. I guess I’m just a horrible person.
Sorry if you actually read all about my emo lameness 🙂 It’s just posted for me, I guess.
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3 comments
No, it’s not posted just for you. I believe everything happens for a reason, and maybe the reason I Googled “suicide” tonight was to help you. Am I depressed tonight? Yes, but I know I’ll get over it, just as I have every time since I tried to commit suicide on January 4, 1977 with an OD of a full bottle (well, maybe 200 of 300) aspirin, plus a bunch of other prescription meds I was on at the time.
Why am I telling you this? Hell, I don’t know, but maybe it’s because I’m the perfect example of the common person – I’m not perfect – BY ANY MEANS – but I try my best. There are so many times and ways that I wish I were much better or happier than I am, but I’m not. Does that disappoint me? Sure, but you know what? Every once in a while I realize that what I want or desire isn’t as important as WHO I am – to others. I now have 4 great kids who, despite being related to me, aren’t perfect, either! (LOL).
For good or bad, they’ve all inherited the intellect of their mom and me, which opens a lot of doors, but for good or bad, they’ve also all inherited the high-strung, high-stress emotions of my family. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but there are a lot of people in this world who can’t relate to the “high-emo” people of this world. You know what, though? I’d say that that’s not a show-stopper. You sound, to me, like a bright, talented, sensitive individual who will someday be someone’s beloved mom or dad – EVEN IF YOU’RE NOT PERFECT.
Don’t give up…I have faith in you…and maybe someday, after you’ve been married 26 years, you’ll be sitting around feeling lousy one night, and Google “suicide.” If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll write something that helps somebody else out during a low time in his or her life.
Remember, we’re all in this together, and the only way we’re all going to get through this is with a little help from each other.
Your friend –
Joe
#1: They would believe you if they were real friends
#2: They would love you more and care more: depressed, suicidal people are notoriously the really “happy ones” in general
#3: They would hug you, listen, and cry with you
#4: They wouldn’t care to listen at any time
I consider myself a true friend for having done this for somewhat a couple of friends. If I knew you, I wouldn’t mind helping you
Aspirin’s a stupid idea for ODing. For a teenager to OD on that shit it would take at least two bottles. For an adult, hell, you’d throw up before you even got close.