Very slowly. Every minute that passes. I’m dying.
I was taking it one minute at a time to try and live. But now, I’m dying every minute that passes by. With every breath that I take. I’m slowly dying. A walking zombie. A walking, slowly decomposing body. Maybe I’m even starting to smell.
I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE!! I want to die. I want to die so bad.
I have a knife in my hands. I keep fighting the urge to plunge it into my gut or my throat. I fucking hate myself so much. I deserve the most painful and torturous death ever. I deserve to suffer.
Only sleep can save me from myself tonight, but insomnia has got the better of me.
My head hurts. My body is a huge weight. Breathing is painful. I feel numb.
I need someone to talk to. Someone I can tell about the demons in my head. Someone I can tell about the voices in my head. Someone to just listen to the shit that keeps running through my head.
Is this what being alive is all about? I don’t want this.
15 comments
You picked a perfect day to come here and let it all hang out. Are you on school break yet?
I have school tomorrow. That’s why everything is just so hard.
Are you still doing the psychology rotation?
Yes. But, I’m scared to consult with the psychiatrists there. They are so nice, but I’m scared of being commited and missing school or having my classmates see me in the ward every day. Every psychiatric hospital in my area is flooded with my classmates. I don’t want them to know I have it rough.
You’re not alone.
Thank you Costy and Sadlife. Somehow the feeling of being alone leaves me when I come on this site.
Same here your not alone
You’re not alone. As for the smell thing, you might consider taking a long shower (sorry, my absurd sense of humor forces me to say stuff like that). If you need someone to just listen (as in, voice listening and not just writing) i remember there was this free site where you had chats with volunteer therapists… maybe someone remembers here and can give you the address?. If not and writing is enough, just write away, i know several will read.
I do have to say… put that knife down. A friend of mine survived cutting his throat, and now has this huge scar on his neck… you could damage your voice too (he had a rough time with that for a while), so… yeah, unless you’re buttering a muffin, put that knife down.
Mf, I doubt a shower takes away the smell of decomposition. I’m rotten. Crawling with maggots and worms. I’m filthy. Already dead. I should just end my suffering already.
Funny thing is, I’m scared of knives, if it’s in someone’s else’s hands and pointed at me tho. You can point a gun at me, but not a knife. Brings back terrible memories and gave me the worst panic attack of my life. I can give you everything you want if you threaten me with a knife.
When it’s in my hand tho… The things I can do to myself with it are terrifying.
The knife is down tho. Thank you.
Ylem31,
That’s one thing that i’m looking forward to and i am near 🙂 I STINK TO THE HIGH HEAVENS! Dead man walking! 🙂
Stinketman.
The skink is terrible Stinketman. Dead girl walking. That’s me.
Hazy Day Sunflower,
Gee thanks! HDS! ADDED FUEL TO MY FIRE! 🙂 Some times comments stink too! stinkegirl!! 🙂
Ylem. I hope you’re ok. Ive been meaning to comment. I nust never had before out of fear or uncertainty. But Im thinking about you today and everyday
Thank you tiredthoughts. It’s nice to know I’m in someone’s thoughts. It makes me feel less lonely.
As for being okay…. I’m looking at the knife again.