it should come soon (i say for the hundredth time so like who actually cares). this is a new low. i’ve never felt so scared and panicked. i type and delete lots of sentences because i realise everything i say makes no sense. there are probably spelling mistakes.
was very excited to see there was a poetry and art category, i click and see lots of poems i don’t understand from people hurting deeply. they are years old. it is extremely rare for me to like poems for some reason, i really want to. at first i felt very sad to see not a lot of illustrations on here, but i realise that this isn’t a very active place and it’s natural to stay on topic. maybe i’m not searching very well. i am very glad i accidentally stumbled on this website in a deep dive. i was expecting some disturbing stuff but i’m happy to see there’s kind people here who keep it calm. i hesitate to contribute because i don’t feel human enough, it’s like parts of me went missing when i was developing in the womb. i’m too honest when i’m too stupid to show kindness, and attempts at compassion backfire.
this is literally the only thing i can say i’m good at sometimes, of course i have the urge to share regardless of quality and worth. it’s always so embarrassing though, but i have to because what other substance do i have? the only thing holding my ego together. i can attribute a small part of my mental and social decline to the fact that i’ve basically dropped this hobby years ago, for reasons that don’t matter. i’m not sure why i started in the first place, i can’t remember anyone in my life helping me discover this skill. my parents are completely disinterested in pretty pictures, i wish my memory was better so i could remember the important things. my life has been a pretty dull one so i’m not sure why i can’t remember people from my past. deep down i probably don’t care for their function, like with most things.
noo the quality is bad 🙁 i was painting the bottom of what i think is called a turkish hazelnut(?) for college. it looked quite alien, if you look around enough you might realise that lots of nature looks too weird to be real, also that whatever you’re looking at might’ve come from overseas. this hazelnut is not native to the UK
it hurts that i can’t help but to be stubborn and clueless to what other people are trying to communicate. i’ve accidentally drove people mad in conversation, sometimes my mum will scream “stop”, startling me, and i must retreat my personality. and for other people i can see their eyes are screaming, that’s when i know to stop. and i genuinely never see it coming. nothing. the amount of discomfort i bring to people must be unbearable and even disgusting for them, i don’t know people tip-toe around me until some time later. i’m quite slow like that. what kind of person can be this stupid. incapable of learning, this type of person must be unkind and self-centred. i’m like radioactive waste slowly killing people’s happiness with my miserable attitude and face.
like everything, this is quite old. i haven’t created in years. i was quite patient with this.
i think hard and as deeply as i can, not once did someone genuinely enjoy my company 1 to 1, i am generally difficult to deal with alone due to my nihilistic and empty personality. which means i can’t be loved. and what’s the point if there isn’t even a little romantic love in your life. i am not mad at the people who drifted away. and i’m not mad for failing to connect even online. none of this feels real. i can’t be mad at my species for i was born hopelessly flawed. how can i have the audacity to complain about my suicidality when i don’t have the drive to make progress in my life? it is as hopeless as praying to a god and expecting them to talk back. sometimes i don’t want to treat this space like a confessional booth because i don’t want more people to think i’m a loser. i don’t know why i do it anyway, attention? yeah i guess. i can be seen without being seen, show certain parts. if i showed the whole picture it would be pretty sad.
i made this when i was very low and frustrated. i liked using cheap metallic paint. i used my fingers to blend the skin. i was trying to show bloody and beautiful melancholia.
it always goes back to love and beauty doesn’t it? very primitive. when a person cannot chase these things then what is there to do? what should i do? creating and painting kept me tied to this but it doesn’t beat the real thing, at times this nearly got me connected to people but i stumbled. i wish i was real. keeping my head down is the best thing i can do, my unsettling wide eyes make things miserable. a therapist told me that it’s ok to be an introvert and that i can work around it. another lie, no one can do that!!! i thought i fell in love once, but actually i was delighted to find out someone caring and good loved me. i thought i was worthless and he lessened that pain for a bit. it’s been about 8 years since we spoke but i still think about him every day, i think he’s doing well now and has probably forgotten about me, i was only words on a screen to him after all. this was the closest i got to love, it could’ve gotten further if my insecurities didn’t get in the way. they always manage to disrupt the flow. will i ever feel pure euphoria? i miss him, i might send a last message but it won’t be sad, it’ll just be a hello hru.
i never drew an expression until this, i prefer a calm face reassuring face.
i was looking to see if i took pictures of old art i did. i saw old photos of me as a kid. i never once smiled with my teeth because they were a jumbled mess (actually very gross) and even after braces they are still not quite right. i googled what is a smile and apparently you’re meant to enjoy it, that seems like a lie. i’m tired of peering through the window, only viewing people from the outside, never understanding the intimate social language people develop with each other. i am stuck in my head, only i can break out. no amount of therapy or support can help with that. it’s always been up to me (this shouldn’t be spun as an opportunity) and even thinking about that is crushing. every day i see by observing others why i don’t fit in and probably shouldn’t, i hate this environment i see, i need things to be simple. hate is all i feel these days and no one should be around that.
lily, i don’t like them. they smell gross.
a constant issue i’ve had was the ability to express myself. i know i could work on my mumbling (although my face is hopeless) but i don’t because i hate changing myself for others. i hate appealing to others, but this is part of the human experience isn’t it? you need to change to fit into your groups, i don’t know why i don’t feel wired to do that. was i really that sensitive to past rejections? did hitting my head on the walls years ago really break me? we’ll never know. if there was one wish i’d want the universe to fulfil, it would be to look at myself objectively and move forwards. do anything but stand still.
i don’t want to think about my (potential) funeral/service. i’ve never been to one because i don’t have contact with family and friends, in general i’m lucky not to be exposed to it very much. i didn’t even go to my grandfather’s funeral which was this year, i wouldn’t know what to do especially because i’ve forgotten my first language. you’re meant to remember their life right? and talk about the good bits. i think mine will be cold and empty. i think my mum will wail because little people will come, or strangers. hell i don’t think my grandparents, godmother, brothers, old friends will come. they’re the closest to me but i’ve only spoken to family when i was very young. very very very sad. you cannot sympathise with someone you don’t even know or care for. so i have to wonder if this will even happen. i guess i’ll be quietly burned to ashes, and spread somewhere because there’s no room in the house for me. i will just be gone. that actually sounds nice.
it’s all over, how does a person even turn around to face their destruction, how do you even have the guts. i can’t type long before my fingers start to feel heavy, every bit of me has given up. i’ve started crying again. i can’t wait around to become even more pathetic than i am. it was such a useless fight. i’ve missed lots of opportunities to go. why do i look like a person when i’m not i have a couple spots in mind now, i need to take a look around first. i desperately wish someone could hold my hand. looking for a partner would be silly and stupid, i’ll just end up getting myself hurt. but god do i need it, just someone to hold my hand one last time and walk me through it. someone that won’t try to argue or stop me. i need to lessen my terror. it will be ok, everything that’s meant to happen will happen. i want the earth to envelop me in all its glory.
she was not loving, caring, funny. she kept to herself and averted her eyes.
edit nov 9: i don’t fit in on this website, making an account wasn’t necessary. subjecting others to my whinging isn’t right, especially because i don’t understand advice or take it well. journaling in a sketchbook is best for me. before i go, i want to call this suicide helpline that i like, it’s a small one run by a scottish man who lost his brother to it. years ago i could barely understand him, this time i’d just like him to listen, that’s why he does it after all. i remember he was really gentle and he doesn’t follow a stupid script. although there’s a good chance he won’t pick up because he works alone. he then refers people to therapists that volunteer their time, i tried it but the therapist got annoyed with me. and it hurt deeply to hear his voice turn in annoyance because i knew he was a smart and sympathetic man experienced with the suicidal, so it meant i was a colossal ***** during those sessions on the phone. the fact that he’s working for free means he can be honest and not bullshit with people who don’t want to really change. i want my last post to be of landscape photos i’ve taken, i only used my phone but i like them. i don’t want to leave a note to my parents, i thought maybe a text or email would be better but i don’t think so. people grieve quicker without it right? i don’t want to say i’m sorry anyway, it would be a lie. and there aren’t good reasons that i need to explain to them, my family already knows i’m a weirdo so it’s enough.
4 comments
well, it isn’t over until it’s over…. in some ways it’s been over since the sun started dying billions of years ago. In others it won’t be until the heat death of the universe, and maybe not even then.
I don’t know why I oppose certainty with such fervor, maybe because it seems impossible to me. How can it ever be the right time? That implies a cooperation from other quarters that……. I long for, but rarely see.
I’ve tried saying it myself is all. “This is the end”, I said……. and here I am, so much for that plan. I wish you the best in whatever you try, death included, but I’m cynical. Life goes on and on.
I can relate to your alienation, and it is only in looking at that emotion that I realize I have managed to find a narrow quarter where I am almost accepted…… Do I try to appear like others? I must……. but rare is the person I feel I can imitate.
also, different medium, but I’m frustrated with my artistic expression also; writing. I haven’t been able to creatively write for years now. I start….. and my life gets in the way.
So, there it is; the perfect time is hard for me to imagine, and creatively I feel I’ve already passed into the abyss.
Yet as a fringe weirdo, that seems to be something I can ride as long as this body lasts. The world needs such people, or at least tolerates them more than it lets on.
If this is our final meeting, take my regards to whatever lies beyond the other side of this thing. I’m glad to have known you.
i chickened out. i wanted to check out the cliff this week but i’ve been putting it off, again fear is getting in the way. to get in my car and never come back home is intimidating. imitating yourself is a good survival skill to use sometimes. it’s nice to read your poetry on the main page, writing is a precious art form. i’m sorry to see you’re not doing so good.
Chipping in a bit late but the lady with red hair and the hazelnut in terms of drawings stand out in particular to me since it’s nice to see detail in such things. The former primarily due to how the skin is colored and painted adding a sort of depth or extra dimension in combination with the perspective you are viewing the face from, and the latter obviously because, although it’s black and white that therefore puts more focus on things such as the showing the difference between the tips/spikes (being the darkest and all) and the body of the thing (being the lightest colored). New plant/tree to me from what I can see on Wikipedia, not once in life did I consider hazelnuts would be so spiky esque but the more you know I guess.
Now then, I approach this post at least from the perspective of someone being diagnosed as autistic by multiple medical professionals of some sort ever since before elementary school or so, and then apparently once again last year by my current psychiatrist without her knowing the history of such things. I doubt it to be honest with you despite all the evaluations conducted on me at a young age with around three of them or so all turning out positive (I have no idea what they subjected me to, it was either around or before the age of five, my parents haven’t even shown me the reports all these years later even though they are SOMEWHERE there, quite disorganized) but either way I have no concern for the matter. To me, it explains nothing, it does nothing, it is nothing, primarily when in comparison all of your life is affected by the real and tangible problems in front of you that can’t just be summed up by “ah, I have this mental disorder/condition, I must not be perceiving things right” even though rent is still rent you have to pay, abuse is still abuse you shouldn’t be going through, neglect is still neglect which obviously reflects greater societal issues at large, you get the point. It’s not so surprising to realize that such variance is only one factor out of billions and trillions at play which make up your reality, primarily because this world is consisting of so many things that it’s hard to have that sort of catch all for it.
I’d ought to be honest, looking on forums related to the topic matter of this one currently, there are far too many people focused on simply whatever they got diagnosed with or have and nothing more when in my case your will & life circumstances determine far more than the psychiatric conditions you have ever do. I’m not wealthy, my family is considerably fucked with how they ignore basically impending doom, we go downhill due to the horrible choices that quite frankly all of us have made and yet the same society that considers you of all people to be in any sense ANY of those traits you describe yourself as, guess what? They think that my situation is somehow normal, in that everyone seems to replicate the same errors, the same fucking mistakes, even though they aren’t “mentally ill”.
They seem to do it, over and over and over and over and however many fucking times until it kills them and then we forget about their deaths and we move on once again to harping on the people who show any sense of self awareness like yourself (even though it’s clear that you have probably internalized a lot of things which quite frankly are not true about yourself and your condition, framing it as not being able to understand people for instance when such a thing does not rely on any “magical sense” for fuck’s sake but simply logical conduct on how to behave, otherwise we’d all be fucking up but you aren’t seeing it be bad to THAT extent, right?) even though the ones who should be put in the spotlight are the fucking hypocrites. Guess what though? That’s the vast majority of people, too big of a pack to fit into one cramped circle of light, and also too normalized of a group to see how fucking dysfunctional you are. There you go, that’s “normal” for you, whatever is the average, whatever is the majority, but certainly not whatever is FUNCTIONAL especially with history showing otherwise.
Anyways, fair amount of cursing aside I have never been a fan of simply attributing problems you can at least somewhat see or are aware of as unsolvable (not saying that you are in this case, you know better) when obviously knowing that there is a problem in the first place (since we are of course in a world where everyone is ignorant to at least something at all times) is part of the solution. How are you going to do much of anything without direction, despite how painful the awareness can be at times? What you consider is what others fear of doing due to the actions they may take if they would ever have to confront it, and yet it’s quite obviously unfair to say that you’re “incapable of learning” in comparison to them, let alone you “not” being a person. Hell, if being a person is equivalent to acting like anyone who would treat you with unneeded disdain (which it isn’t, since when has being human specifically entailed repeating the mistakes of others when you know they are mistakes?), I don’t think that’s something you want to be. Doing the right things (whatever you may deem them as) and aiming for what you believe in is probably far more important in comparison to whatever inclusion it may get you, the group you belong to will quite frankly not matter if it’s too generalized to even be something you’d care or have any concern about, and it’s only in pursuit of said things that you will fix your problems far faster in comparison to joining a group of averages which is united by misconduct.
Regardless of whatever you choose, you already have the right kind of idea in mind when it comes to trying to look at yourself (or pretty much anything) objectively and to move forwards. Your will is not to be underestimated in the midst of all this, the very thing you should hold dear to yourself is your own autonomy in which all people here pretty much respect. It’s not only the freedom of choice there but the choices, needs and preferences which make you more than just a person, obviously that being yourself. Regardless of your disadvantages, at the very least in terms of how you respond to them, it will undoubtedly be yourself. Regardless of how much those responses to hardship end up affecting, they at the very least reveal the existence of someone there, the “shoes” being the exact circumstances and all but obviously the person wearing them still being a variable. In that sense alone, I’d say something controversial in that people don’t necessarily judge “you” but rather the “shoes” you wear. Quite superficial to judge someone harshly based on not financially being able to afford expensive boots (and luxurious life circumstances), but in a bunch of people’s eyes you may ultimately be a stand in for a stereotype just like that, and opinions of that sort are not worth taking into account. Allow no one to gaslight you into determining who you are regardless of your input, actions or decisions, for you. You are the one who does that.
frankly i don’t know myself and i don’t know if there’s any point to my words. maybe the self-hate is so intense i’m trying to erase myself from the inside.. idk. i can choose to be better but i won’t, for reasons i will never know. it’s true that most people are superficial and don’t care to change that. thank you for taking the time to write.