I feel like giving up. I’ve always been taught life’s great, all that shit, that I have to be successful, that I have to have dreams – grand dreams. It’s all so fucking stressful. Everything is spinning out of control inside me. I blame her, I blame her for everything. It’s stupid, because it’s my own stupid fault really. I keep saying, I never learned how to walk on my own because she keeps a tight leash on me, dragging me around for show to everyone who can see. But the truth is, I’m too afraid to get out of her shadow. Too fucking afraid.
I can’t talk to anyone. I realize now, I’ve been so isolated all my life, I don’t have anyone I can turn to. All my friends, all the people in my life close to me in real life, would not understand how I feel. They’d start to look at me, when they see how controlled I am, and they’d think it was the best thing ever. Because I have a mother who obviously cares for me a lot. They’d make concessions with her demands, and accept them. They do not ever stop to think and ask, what I think, And I don’t say anything, because I’m too afraid. I don’t know how to make friends. What friends I have, are a result of her interference. So I don’t know. I don’t know how to talk to them. I don’t know what to say, how to start, how to continue. That it goes on for so long, that I realize, they get farther away from me, so it is even harder to talk to them.
So I think, I want revenge, on her. Because she made my life miserable. I wanted to kill somebody, something. I don’t know. At first, I wanted to kill her, because then I’d be free from her. But then, I thought, I wanted revenge. Killing her isn’t revenge. So instead now I wanted to kill myself. I keep thinking, it’s perfect, she’s been showing me off and I’m just sitting there, smiling stupidly. It will be the greatest revenge, because she’ll be so humiliated. So fucking humiliated. And all her efforts would go to waste, because hey, I’m dead. I’d be throwing away my entire life and future for no fucking reason, and she’d be so humiliated, because everywhere she goes, she keeps on saying, this person will become a lawyer, this person is a good child, an obedient child. So me dying, by suicide, would be the funniest, most ironic, and most fucking humiliating thing that will ever happen to her.
I’m so fucking pathetic. So fucking stupid. So fuck. I hate it. I hate myself. I hate her. I hate them all. But I’m so fucking weak and so fucking pathetic, so I’d do this. I’d do this because I’ll be free from her. Even if I’m hell, and I’ll be in hell with all other hypocrites, at least they all know they’re hypocrites, and not those hypocrites pretending to be good people. I’ll suffer in hell, but at least I won’t have to put up with two-faced people who wouldn’t care rats ass about you. I wouldn’t have to doubt myself, I’d know that I’m in hell because I’m a stupid fool and have to suffer for it. I’m in hell to suffer agony and it will be the best thing ever. Why? because then I’d know it’s something I did. Something I did, of my own free will.
18 comments
Your mother sounds extremely… tyrannical. I can empathize with that, since I pretty much have to do whatever my parents tell me to do. I rebelled once, got slapped for it.
I don’t know how old you are, but if you can find a job, go for it — the boss calls the shots when you’re working, not your mom. Why do you not dare to speak up to your mother and tell her your opinions? Try it on something small (I prefer this colour to that, for instance) and slowly progress from there.
I wouldn’t know what’s tyrannical. Her friends agree she’s in the right. I rebelled, got threatened to be thrown out. I don’t know if I have the courage to do anything anymore. It’s pathetic because I’m old enough to take care of myself. But I’m just so tired now. It’s like you’ve been wrapped up so tight, that it’s all you’ve ever known, that even if somebody else tries to loosen it for you so you can breathe, you continue holding your breath because you don’t know any other way and you’re scared to change anything because you don’t know if it’s an illusion or not?
@confused: Well think about it this way. You’ll have to move out sooner or later. You might as well take some small steps towards independence now, rather than suffer a major shock later. Try to breathe within that wrapped-up space first. Since you can’t (that’s why you’re posting, right?), loosen it a little, then breathe a little more. You can choose to continue things the way they are, or you can choose to do it step by step. To me, either way beats suicide. If you die now, you’ll still be in the grasp of your mother, since your death was in response to her.
I guess you’re right, but it just seems easier. I’m tired of it all, so I didn’t want to put effort in anything at all. I tried the independence stuff before, but it was fleeting, you know? I thought I made a breakthrough, but all it did was tighten the wrapping. And now, everything’s just, I don’t know, I’m really just so exhausted of trying to fight it and losing every time. I don’t want to do anything anymore because I only end up disappointed. And all I can think of is that it’s the one choice that she can’t take away from me.
@confused: I hear you. It is indeed more tiring when external circumstances (i.e. your mom) force you into a dead end. But regarding your point on how it “seems easier” to die… I’ve been there, done that, and I can tell you that it is NOT easier. If you read the posts on SP, plenty of other people wonder why it’s so difficult to die, too. The problem is that we all have our survival instincts firmly in place, as shitty as that may be. The more lethal the method, the more willpower it takes to carry it out. Your mother certainly can’t take away your choice, she’ll just end up completely taking away the one life you have. Now, at the very least, she doesn’t sit in the bathroom while you shower, right?
Oh sorry, I should clarify that. I’m not saying its “easier to die”. You’re right, I’ve tried to do it, but I never get the willpower to do it, always backing out. I just meant that it seems easier to choose to die than to choose to live. I’m probably making excuses and it’s hard to turn away from suicide. Truthfully, I don’t know if I’ll ever get to do it. Because I’m always planning that I’ll kill myself on day so and so, but I never do. It’s just she pushes me over the edge a lot, so the thoughts keep recurring. I don’t know when, but I know that all these years of pent up anger and frustration will blow up, and its either I give up or stand up. I know, it’s pathetic that I’m too scared to do anything. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the courage to do anything. I hope I do, but the way I keep doubting myself, I don’t know if its possible.
@confused: Perhaps you can try to seek professional help — a counsellor/therapist may help. I’m saying this because this is a two-way thing involving both your mother and yourself. If she doesn’t support you in doing so, you may need to find someone else to accompany you. I know you said that whatever friends you have are a result of her interference, but surely there must be some people you are comfortable with? Otherwise you’d be venting about them here, too.
I think I sound a bit off today, sorry about that. Today has been an especially bad day what with all the panic attacks, so I’m refraining from commenting too much.
Thank you but I’m not quite sure I’ll be seeking one. Truthfully, I’m scared because I want to pretend I’m normal. No one knows I’m like this, well not anyone I know in real life that is. I don’t vent about friends or family or anyone else because I think I’ve reached a point where I only expect the worst from them. They’re not bad people, just that they have their own lives to live and I don’t really matter as much. As for my mother, I was holding out on the fact that if she’s my mother, then she should at least know something, so when she does things like that, it makes me depressed.
No, you’ve been helpful really. I’m sorry for your panic attacks. But for the fact that you still respond, I’m grateful. I hope you get better, I don’t know how to deal with panic attacks, mine usually aren’t serious so if I focus on something, they tend to lessen, and I can pretend I’m good.
@confused: I love to pretend that I’m normal too, except that I feel I can’t keep this facade up much longer. Well, there are many options from here depending what you choose. Evaluate them carefully! I stopped expecting anything from my family; it’s kind of a protective mechanism, I guess — if you don’t expect anything, you won’t get disappointed. But well, even the people closest to you (physically or otherwise) can’t read your mind, or they may not know how to deal with things.
I hope that by chatting here on SP you at least have an outlet. Sometimes, self-destructive behaviour isn’t really what we want to engage in. Cheer up and keep going!
You pretend you normal? Kind of defeats the purpose don’t it? I sometimes pretend I’m in the Matrix and I can do cool shit like run up walls and slow mo and shit. Or sometimes I’ll pretend I’m like 10 years old and get to play with toys again. I’m not really ten but I miss playing with toys…
@TC: It’s the herd instinct. Society dictates what is “normal”, after all. Oh, you’re certainly 10 years old. I read somewhere that if you’re 11, then you’re also 10, 9, 8… you get the point. You add another year to the layers of age you already have, that’s all.
Lol nah I don’t get the point. I’m 19 years old bout to turn 20. You might need to explain that one a lil more
@TC: Well, simply speaking while you’re 19 the parts of you that were 18, 17, 16 etc. still remain. It depends on which part is being expressed. Growing older merely adds an additional year of experiences to your life, it doesn’t radically change the younger parts of you. (Of course, this is a contentious point.)
I get it. So what your saying is that I can still play with toys?
@TC: Yeah, ’cause it’s the kid part of you that wants to play with toys. And we all have that kid part of us.
@ teshyn: that’s exactly it! You don’t get disappointed because you expect the worst. The thing is, when you’ve been living with people your whole life, you can’t help but expect that they should at least know you, otherwise, you might as well have been living on a rock. I think it’s a good thing I found SP, otherwise, I would have nowhere to vent, so it’s very helpful.
@TC: I’m a bit on the crazy side and people say I’m this person who always smile, like I never have problems. That’s normal for me. So I would be pretending I’m fine and that I have no problems, or if I do they’re just unimportant. It’s just that, “normal” for society means that even if you have problems, you pull through. Society doesn’t want to know a suicidal person, because it doesn’t understand why anyone would do it. They’re disgusted or ashamed, and I didn’t want the stigma to attach. That said, I never knew why anyone would think you can’t play with toys even though you’re an adult. I’m pretty sure adults just get bigger toys to play with, but doesn’t stop them from playing with kiddy toys. I never got over that, I still play dress up barbie and I’m older than you.
@confused: No way, my way is slightly different. You expect the worst, but I don’t expect anything at all. So even if the worst happens, it still doesn’t break my expectations, since I expected absolutely nothing. Pretty extreme way, I know. Well, whatever works, I guess.
I’m also glad I found SP. I’m happiest when I’m helping people, really, or just listening to others’ stories. But my society doesn’t seem to want my help, because it advocates meritocracy — everyone should help themselves, and if someone fails, that’s their damn problem. So SP’s my outlet to… help. Wait, that sounds really weird.
I’m around TC’s age, and I still play with all the old toys that I refuse to throw/give away. In fact, when I was younger, my best toys were my hands — we didn’t have too much money to spend on toys then.
@teshyn: I see, that would work. I’ll probably try it, but I’m somewhat of a pessimist so I immediately expect the worst.
It doesn’t sound weird at all. I think one reason why I came here was to find others like myself, who I can share burdens with. I don’t know if its altruism or selfishness, but I like it when I listen to people or helping them. It doesn’t matter if I’m not happy, but if I’m able to do something for someone and make them happy, I’ll feel I’m doing something worthwhile, and I’m not entirely useless…and that probably is being selfish.
I think a lot of us likes playing with our old toys, just never saying it out loud. I myself never had much as a child — my best toys were a very wild imagination and a place to run around — so as I got older, I’m probably making up for it.