I hate it when people try to cheer me up, yes, I know, it’s instinctive- they probably don’t know what else to do. But it kills me inside when they talk about hope, the future, what good may come. It kills me. It’s just digs me deeper.
I’m so tired of no one understanding, Â of being so alone.
I know I’ll never be able to move out, I know I’ll never be able to have a successful life. When my mother can’t support me anymore, I’ll just have to live on the streets.
I can’t imagine myself being old, I’m too much of a defeatist that I’m prone to committing suicide, and when I do, I’ll be alone then too.
No one would even suspect, no one would even consider that I’d commit suicide.
So. Alone.
Always alone.
2 comments
“When my mother can’t support me anymore, I’ll just have to live on the streets.” This can be applied to my situation however…..I fucking refuse to end up on the streets desolate and at diminished mental capacity. I would be liable to snap and do something outrageous and stupid like jump in front of a bus or manipulate the police into killing me. I am determined to end my life before this comes to be. I know my mom is growing tired of having a pile of shit for a son and before I get flushed I rather remove myself. I know exactly how you feel. When people try to cheer me up I get a mixture of negative emotions because its like they assume I’m sad not depressed but just sad. For example…like when a kid breaks his toy he is sad so the parents buy him a new one to cheer him up. With depression its more like the toy factory went out of business and the parents are trying to give you a stick and saying “just imagine its a toy” It just doesn’t work. At this point I have come to terms that I am on a time limit and will inevitably commit suicide …. I just feel broken and sometimes you can’t fix broken things
If I didn’t have a dependable way to commit suicide, I wouldn’t be here. I wish my mother saw me for what I am, she still thinks there’s hope for me for some reason. I keep trying to explain how I can’t get a job and I’m terrified of school. She just won’t accept that I am sentient shit. Slightly moldy too (if it’s even possible for shit to get moldy)
“like when a kid breaks his toy he is sad so the parents buy him a new one to cheer him up. With depression its more like the toy factory went out of business and the parents are trying to give you a stick and saying ‘just imagine its a toy’ It just doesn’t work.”
That’s exactly how it is, no one takes it seriously enough. “It’s just a phase”. Well F*** you, I don’t think being depressed for almost 3 years is a phase.
No one takes me seriously. My mother found me bawling my eyes out in my room a few weeks ago and hasn’t addressed it since. I’ll tell someone I’m having a bad day and they’ll be like “The moon does that sometimes” What the hell?
I’m just so small and insignificant, so broken and worthless. Why do people tell me I have a purpose? If I had a purpose, it would be making the smart look smarter- by being a worthless idiot.