I cannot put my pain into words. I can’t cry. I deal with it alone all day and late into the night. There used to be catharsis putting it into words. Not anymore. The only relief left is to die. I don’t want to die, especially not alone and painfully. But it is a choice between that, and enduring pain that I no longer have the strength to face. I have no hope, no dignity, no fight left.
Words, words, words. The counterfeit of action. More contemptible than the suicidal gesture done to illicit sympathy. I am doing the exact same thing, yet without having to leave the keyboard, or face the displeasure and judgement of others. You can see I am full of judgement and scorn, all the more reason to die.
Another monologue, since engaging people is impossible for me now. I can barely even remember what it feels like to feel close to someone, to feel understanding and understood. Indifference, distrust, and judgement are the gifts I have to give. I wonder why I find myself alone?
Anyway I’m sorry if you’ve read these words devoid of any humanity or wit. The author is exactly as he comes across, and will hopefully have the decency to end his existence soon.
6 comments
It is so relieving, I wish relieving of pain however it is at least mentally relieving to read your honest words of the suffering in pain that so many just don’t understand. “Words, words, words. The counterfeit of action.” So very true and yet there are days when that seems the only thing that can be accomplished. Words on a “Ta-Da” list or just words that when placed altogether make sense to only a few… it all means the same.
What is there that we can do to make it seem as though there is never a thing wrong and we are just as okay as everyone else? I’ve personally given up on even trying to help someone understand just exactly what it is like and how enveloping the pain can be like. Im at the point where I am just getting by day to day and hoping that someday, some how, some “dream”, there will be something that will assist in allowing me to live life the way everyone expects me to and to get through it with grace.
Thank you so very much for sharing what you are going through here. I truly hope that you find some sort of solace or a slight bit of relief soon.
Putting words on paper just doesn’t make me feel better anymore. Hate it when people say “snap out of it” or “what are you doing to make your life better?” I have no fight in me right now, just trying to make it through each day. Feel hopeless, try not to think about the future. I’ve made it through this before, maybe I’ll pull through it this time too. Comforting to know that others are going through the same thing and that I’m not the only one suffering.
One of the many reasons why I want to end my life now, is because I know if I stay alive I will become like the author of this post. No disrespect, but I don’t want to become like that. Bitter, hateful, angry.
I want to go while I’m still me. While I still have love in my heart. Before I become someone else.
How old are you? I used to think the same thing. I wish I’d ended my life before becoming this way.
I would turn 42 in June, but I doubt I’ll make it that far.
Everything you wrote is so true and eloquently written. I started out that way, bitter, angry, alone, and self destructive. Eventually I convinced myself that I didn’t need people, that I didn’t care what they thought. I finished college, got a good job, bought a car and a house. All just to prove to myself that I could. Then I met my wife and all that changed. I liked personal contact and relationships. Made me a better person, somewhat normal for a time. Until she cheated on me. Now I’m stuck, can’t go back to my narcissism because I now know what it is to be happy. Can’t be happy because people always betray you in the end. Can’t die because I’m old enough to think about it too thoroughly. It’s a cruel, bitter circle. At least the meds help a little.