I just want to take a big UGH crap on everyone before I start!
It’s finals week and it makes me think… What the fuck am I doing? Everyone around me my age seems to have a grip on reality but I’m floating in a different dimension or something. I don’t even exist.
Lately I’ve been thinking about how I look to everyone that sees me. Am I as socially awkward as I feel like I am? Is what I see in the mirror the same thing others see when they look at me? Do I hide my suicidal side well from my family? Do they see through my facade, or do they just choose to ignore it? I think the latter… ‘Wouldn’t want anymore drama from her! She already got 2 D.W.Is, totaled her car she hardly had for a year, and went to rehab! What will happen when she turns 21?! And, God, she’s such a loser. Never brings around any friends.’
21. I was always excited about this milestone. 61 days! There’s a fucking butterfly orgy in my stomach just thinking about the endless nights of binge drinking and blacking out. Ah, I can see it now! Heaven… *sigh*
I feel like I don’t have anything special to look forward to in my life. I don’t want to get married (thanks mom and dad), I don’t want kids, I have no career goals, no friends to share experiences with, no fantasies of finding my true love anymore, no motivation to become an active member in a society… I’m just a robot to routine hoping one day something inside of me will click and I’ll wake up.
How did everyone get so special? How did they become so beautiful and successful with countless friends and stable romantic relationships? Why am I so jealous of them? Why do I hate them? Do they see me?
I struggled since my teenage years with existing. A wallflower… More like wallweed. I slowly lost all my friends and watched them grow closer to each other over the years as I faded out of the picture. I wonder all the time if they still think about me, wonder what I’m up to, what I’ve made of my life so far. I think about them all the time. I feel like I’m too far gone, too far pushed into my solitude that it would be impossible to reconnect with these now characters in my head.
fffffffuuuuuuuuuuu.
Just want to fucking scream and UGH kill people. Such a fucking loser I hate myself. No I don’t hate myself, I just hate what I’ve done to myself. If I had one wish it would be to go back in time 10 years and shake my former self to get out of that fucking shell and make some God damned friends. Just one. Just make one fucking friend… Please…
The thought plays over and over again in my head… It’s getting harder everyday. Each passing day I feel slightly worse. I keep telling myself to hang on just a little longer. Hang on to the hope that one day I’ll realize my purpose and that the people around me aren’t just pretending to love me. Time is my only friend. With it I attempt to grow and better my thoughts but the depression seeps through the sealed cracks like poison, reinfecting what has just healed. Setting me back further than I was when I started to repair my shattered mind.Â
Sometimes I wonder whats it’s like to have cancer. What it must feel like to die a slow, painful death. Would I wish for it to end, or would I wish for a second chance at life? Would I revel in the breaking down of my physical self? Or would I fight?
I was thinking tonight what it would be like to tell my diluted mother about my suicidal thoughts. She had them once. About a week before Christmas 2 years ago when she was expected to host 15 people in our tiny house. The tiny house I chose to live in with her after my father found out about her 5+ year affair with a man my grandfather’s age. I got a phone call from an erratic friend of hers. My mother called this friend asking her how to tie a noose. She drank a large amount of alcohol and took a few too many Nyquil gel pills (amateur). I remember sitting in the hospital outside of her room and listening to her thrashing about, yelling at the poor nurse. I was in shock. Had my mother really had the same suicidal thoughts as I did? Except she called out for help. I still feel like she would be the absolute worst person to confess my thoughts to, because of her shrunken perspective of the world around her. She wears a ditsy mask as if she’s some sort of clueless damsel. But I see through her mask, because I wear the same one. God damned her for that.
So I will resort to telling you fine people. I think this is my third post and I’ve got to say, I’m so thankful for this website. Thank you for reading!
5 comments
Honestly, I’m past being optimistic at this point. I really just believe that some people don’t belong in this world. Maybe you’re one of them. I am, but I’m too terrified of death to be suicidal. I mostly come here to talk about and listen to the shit I don’t hear in face to face conversations…sometimes I just can’t with fucking facebook and instagram and shit, I don’t want to be a motherfucking celebrity I just want to live my life surrounded by things that l care about without having to meticulously document it for the convenient consumption of a person who probably doesn’t give two damns about me or my life. This makes me a weirdo apparently. 🙁
Funny you should mention facebook because I reactivated it before coming on here. I scrolled around a bit checking on everybody. Oh you’re still better than me, sorry just checking. Then deactivated it again. It makes me sick knowing every single little thing that goes on in their life because they post all that shit like it’s important.
Believe me, I’m terrified of death too. But I do know I don’t belong here. I wish there was an easy, painless, quick way out. What terrifies me the most is the moment before I swallow the pills, lift my foot to kick the chair below me, look down the side of a 20 story building from the roof, or feel the pressure of loaded gun against my head. That crucial moment between life and death is what keeps me at bay.
Being different than the majority makes one the exception.
According to all the things wrong with “most people,” i don’t think being a “weirdo” is a bad thing. I think it’s just difficult to deal with the whole “most people think i’m a weirdo, and therefore shun me” thing.
But… why would anyone want to conform to, fit in with, and be accepted by, a social structure comprised primarily of idiots?
Idiots are the reason for the rampant habituation of idiocy! It really is “everyone else’s fault.” But, as those who seem to naturally identify the idiocy, i feel it is our duty as perceptive and capable human beings, to correct what is wrong with the world. We have our work cut out for us.
Society needs to change. The systems need to change. It won’t happen if we refuse to participate, and leave it to continue in those ways.
On the other hand, i honestly can’t blame anyone for thinking it’s just too much, and not wanting to deal with it.
Wow. You sound just like me, OP. I just don’t understand why there’s people like us, who have so much trouble just wanting to live and others who have absolutely no problem with anything in their life.
Yeah I think it’s okay to be weird, nervous, afraid and/or avoidant. Especially when the situations are bizzare. Getting through finals while struggling with suicidal ideation definitely qualifies as bizzare.
It’s really okay to exhibit difficulty in coping. People respect it, they empathize it’s cute and funny. Think of how much comedy is set in awkward situations that are plowed straight into catastrophe or Forrest Gumped into brilliant success.
People gawk and stare because their looking for ideas themselves. Life is boring and scary and along comes someone who’s wobbly and teetering. It’s soul sucking to waste time watching people who paint their lives as perfect and pretend to be in control. I prefer the oddballs and misfits and I thank God that there are plenty of us.