does anyone ever feel like ..

I used to feel like that.
I thought that all the bad was leeching out of my lifes supply now, in order to save up for the good times later. As time went by again and again, with good deeds returning bad karma, undeserved, I began to doubt.

What is it we as humans love about perception and expectations?
Don’t we ever think that things don’t always go as written by the book?

What I mean is that we are RAISED to believe, somehow, that bad things can’t happen, or continually happen to a good or average person. Are most of us not average people who at some point believed we were walking a dark path because it led to a lighter one?

Why do we always expect fairy tales to have happy endings?

Why do we always associate love with heartbreak, or one ended lusting?

When someone tells us they feel depressed, we spit out robotic rehersed words we have heard on movies, or read in books.
“It will be okay”
“Things will get better.”
“You just have to look on the bright side.”
“Kids are starving in Africa, you’re not hard done by.”

When people would say these words to me, I would smile sweetly and thank them for the gratitude, but mentally slap them in the face for not understanding.
That’s just it though, those who have never wanted to die every single day, or felt like they didn’t belong in their body, life, family or basically the planet, they can’t possibly contemplate a feeling like these. It’s like telling humans that there is another colour in the rainbow, one we haven’t seen before.

I feel that once you see this colour, this perspective on life, it is so overwhelming and you just can’t un-see it.

We think, in general, that mental illness is something curable.
“You’ll get better! Don’t do it!”
“Suicide is selfish”
“Just talk to someone! Get help!”
“It’s never too late!”

If only they could see, that sometimes a person can be so mentally ill, that it is the same as a terminal illness. Your life is inhibited in much the same way, you are in a state of pain, can’t function like a normal person and literally live your life in a state of disability.
If only they could stop hard wiring their brains into thinking that every unhappy, sick, mental person could somehow be cleaned up and stuck back into the invisible string of society approved people, then maybe people wouldn’t make suicide such a taboo subject.

Then maybe we could start bringing it out the closet and fixing the issues.

Have you ever noticed the more you hide, or the harder you try to push something away, the need for it is stronger, and it becomes harder to ignore?
Like needing to go to the toilet at night, when you have gone to bed.

Anyway I have no idea where this is going.
Just started typing.

But I know what you meant by this post, sometimes when I’m out in public, just on the street or at a shop, I’ll have to run to the bathroom and cut myself. And If I can’t make it there, or don’t have anything, I’ll start pressing my nails into my wrists. This is good because It hurts badly with continued pressure, but doesn’t leave marks for others to see.
Wow, I’m screwed.

Right on there.
It feels like such a push and pull, people screaming not to jump into the unknown, and people preaching that fire awaits there, and pain for choosing to end this.
But when I see all the evil of this world, I just canno’t understand it. And it disturbs me to a point I can’t contemplate.

And your so right, just because we aren’t limping or wearing casts, doesn’t mean were not ill. I have been through the health system many times, and where I live on the Gold Coast, it is an utmost failure. When I have been hospitalised it was only so easy to lie my way out. There needs to be so much more education on how to read a person who is in need of hospitalisation. But riding on that point, it is so humanly wrong to shove someone in a mental instituation when all they need is peace.

They are ostracised, treated like animals and put away.

One time, after I cut my wrists badly and someone found me, they didn’t anaesthise the wounds before stitching them. It hurt like hell, which was something I couldn’t say because, hey, I just cut my wrists. So when he was sticking a needle in my cuts over and over, I said nothing. I didn’t let out a sound. Only felt so much disgust over what he did.

There was a girl in there too, who had taken way too much LSD. She was freaking out, and was tied down. The doctors were not treating her with respect, because as a young drug abuser or self harmer we are seen as lesser people.
I ran from my bed into her section, and I told her to calm down, and that I understood that these people couldn’t understand how reckless life can be. I wrapped my arms around her, and it was the most beautiful and strange moment of my life. She wasn’t trying to rip herself from the bed. And then two nurses came in and pulled my (freshly stitched) arms behind my back, with so much force and pulled me out. Like I was some kind of maniac. The girl started to freak out again after that.

But that was off topic.

I too try my best too give everything to others, my compassion and advice, and I find it well enough for others. But everything has shifted, and when you feel pain you want release right? So some people choose to seek it themselves, through the unknown.

And if these is a God who sends people into eternal fires just for wanting a release from pain and anguish, then I do not want to exist in this life, or the next one. And I will never comply to living a life in fear of upsetting a higher being, because that is just a life half lived anyway!

No, I can’t believe that. I like to think love and wholeness comes next.