Ranting Time

So I’ve been alone for a long time, practically all my life. And this recent suicidal phase I’ve gone thru hasn’t helped that at all. Scarred myself up good I did. Even slicing my arm open on a hacksaw by accident one day. I’ve grown a loving for the color black and everything about. In color theory, it’s either the presence of every color or the absence. I like to think every color is present.

But anyway, I’ve made plans and I’ve screwed it into my head that I’m probably going to end up dying alone in my old age. And I think I’m prepared for that. I mean come on, what girl in their right mind would want to be with someone like me? This isn’t a guilt trip, it’s a rant. Seriously, my arms are so screwed up that I have to wear long sleeves to avoid being pegged with questions. I’ve been in this black void for a long time, fully accepting darkness and pain, with everything that comes with it. I’ve even gone to lengths to convince myself that I’m asexual, forcing there to be no physical attraction to the female sex. It’s working but to a certain degree. Wish I could just shut it off.

I don’t want to love. I’ve tried to once in the past, and it hurts way too much, even years later.

Now that I guess I’ve started to come out of the black existence, I can see some happier days coming, but the consequences of this period in time are too deep to fade permanently. And I’m ashamed of them. I really wish I didn’t do this much damage to myself, but at that time I really believed that was the end. I even wrote my own note and planned it all out. My folks are out of the state for a few days and I could easily end it all right now. All that’s needed is a strong rope, a musical score and some alcohol. But I don’t choose too. It’s not because I want to survive. It’s because I want to see how much more of this I can take before I finally end it. I know it’s coming close. People have told me to go see someone for help, but that’s just insulting to me. I’ve come through this dark time with no professional help, no medication. Yes, it’s messed with my emotional balance, I see the world in a more rational, negative light and it’s permanently scarred me. But for a time, I felt safe.