I’ve felt this way before. A raw ache in the pit of my stomach. A crushing need to rip myself open and destroy what’s inside. I want to burn until even the ashes are gone. The pain is so urgent. The need to end it is so great. I try to ignore it. Push it away. Bury it. Pretend it’s all okay. Be the person I’m supposed to be.
Get up, take a shower, get dressed, go to work. Do my job with a smile. Be friendly. Be outgoing.
(But never let anyone get too close. Don’t let them see the pain. Don’t let them see the scars.)
Keep it together. It’s not okay to cry. Suck it up. Get over it.
Spend the evenings alone. Stay distracted. Movies, games, internet. Anything. Push away the thoughts. Push away the urge to just do it. Forget about the rope. Forget about the pills. Leave the razors alone.
Try to forget.
Try to distract.
Try to find a reason.
Give up. Tie a noose. Anchor it securely. Put it around my neck. I only have to step down. It will be over quick. It will only hurt for a moment.
Just step down.
Can’t do it. Get pissed. Rip the rope down. Curse. Throw things. Punch a hole in the wall.
Coward. Fucking coward.
Collapse in sobs. Curl into a ball on the floor. Hate myself. Hate myself. Hate myself.
Hurt myself. Tear my arms open. Blood stains on the floor.
Take my pain away. Just make me numb.
Take my life away.
Meaningless. Useless. Worthless.
Burn it down.
Ashes in the wind.
2 comments
It’s alright to cry and feel down about yourself. I get pissed at myself all the time because it takes something as small as a pat on the back to bring myself back up. and i haven’t cried since i was like 13. i hate the fact that it doesn’t bother me when i fuck up. I jus plain ass don’t care about myself. I could care less to live, care less to die, care less about everything. I jus don’t care and it sucks it bothers me. It makes me wonder if i’m a good person and i don’t like thinkin about it. I guess what i’m tryin to say is you should feel lucky to actually care enough that you can’t kill yourself. and you should care enough to find someway to help yourself.
I don’t care about myself. I want to die. Need to die. I can’t do it because I care about other people. What they would go through. I care about my dogs. Who would care for them? I breathe for others. The sad thing is that those people treat me like shit. A burden. They tell me to suck it up. They tell me to stop whining. They couldn’t be supportive if they were paid a million dollars to just be there and listen.
I don’t understand myself. I don’t know why I care so much about those people. The ones who call me selfish. Why should I live for them? Why should I continue to exist for their well-being and peace of mind?
I don’t want to be here. What I do want is for the pain to end. I want to die.