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Charcoal or a rope

by evianwatre

After my death nobody will know why, the reason the feelings my view my opinions, all that, I guess it’s good in a way. Nobody will understand who I am and how I feel, nobody will after my death.

the urge won’t last, the urge and thoughts won’t continue, I won’t be killing myself, or will I?

i don’t know when will be the time, I don’t know if I can even last another year. They don’t see it, they don’t and I need to recognize that nobody will ever do. INFP is the most idealistic personality and I fucking hate it, I hate holding hope and fantasies, I hate the nostalgia, I hate being able to speak, I hate being able to think. I don’t know how anyone can put up with being human, the limbs are getting numb, i thought I can’t feel another thing again and I was so happy of it.

the words circling around, the thought of never being understood, the dread around the chest. What’s been triggered by a small issue stays a minor problem to them, I’m so ducking selfish, i want them to understand, And it’s fucking more impossible than making a rabbit walk on its two ears. I don’t want to stop being ill, that’s the only way I can pay back for being this piece of shit. But I’m so tired, I can’t function properly, I can’t act normal and I can’t read minds.

i would drop anything I love to die. But I can’t, but I can’t, all that goes on in my mind is the cost of my death, families torn apart, relatives wondering why I ever did it, how I’m too sensitive and a “minor issue” pushed me into killing myself. It’s the guilt of living and self hatred building up more and more for the past 5 years, it’s the memories, tortured by my own head, seeing other people being normal makes me so jealous I want to die, everything results in one, self harming doesn’t help anymore, self deprecating jokes doesn’t make them love me more. I don’t know why you’re automatically attached to your family, all I see and everything I see is visions of me, knocked over by a car on the highway, half hanging on the ceiling, in a room with charcoal burning, bottles of alcohol, falling off of a tower, the thought of my head, cracked like a watermelon, my thought finally being released. I need to drop all the hope, I wish I’m more ill at this point, where I completely lose my mind and would be able to kill myself in the blink of an eye.

i want to stop loving the others and have my heart twisted and stepped on and be portrayed as the victim, I’m fine with people stepping on me, I just never, never did anything.

here comes the self pity, I don’t even know who I am anymore.

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3 comments

BummerBum 2/15/2020 - 12:57 am

The saying, “an object in motion stays in motion,” can be very useful when thinking about our thought process. Logic is tossed in the wind when our emotions are flared. When we are in a good mood, we say to ourselves, “Nothing can bother me right now.” However, when we are upset, mad, or sad, we say, “Oh, what’s the use?” When our emotions get loose and start running rampant, they can take us very, very far in the direction they want to go. What’s tricky, is that we’ll FEEL a certain way, AND THEN we rationalize it with our brain.

Virus.Found 2/17/2020 - 12:00 am

I hate being stuck in such a long time period of your life, where you just can’t get out of. The jealousy gets unbearable. It’s interesting, how you can go into such detail about everything and then say: You don’t know yourself anymore.
I KNOW you’re a person with hope and that’s painful but not bad. Now you know yourself. I really hope, people around you open your eyes.. But then again, nobody would ever know, how much we suffer. Keeping a diary would be a smart way, just in case..

eugenerino 2/20/2020 - 12:51 am

INFP here and literally everything that you’ve said is so relatable. Idont know if this will be of any comfort but just know someone like you is going through the same shit. Best of luck and hang in there cuz I ain’t tryna do this shit alone.

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