I don’t understand what’s wrong with me. Everything is going wrong with my life right now and I feel nothing. Not anger, not sadness, nothing.
I just have this emptiness that I cannot fill. What’s funny is that people have been telling me that i look happier lately. Hilarious.
At this point I wish I was sad or angry. I wish I felt something. This enotionlessness scares me to no end. It makes me numb to things. I’m scared I will do something to myself.
I laugh it off and “smile though the pain” because I think if my body looks happy then I will be happy. Right?
I don’t even know anymore. I don’t care about things anymore. Apathy is supposed to be good right? But why don’t I feel better.
I keep screwing everything good in my life and I just don’t care. Or I care too much. At this point, I’m not sure. Everything is so screwed up and I have no one to talk to. No one would understand. I just wish someone would realize just how much I need help.
These days I don’t feel anything. Things that I used to care about seem uninteresting.
I feel like I have been on a road to self destruction. I see myself doing things that I know will only hurt me, but I can’t bring myself to care. I can’t bring myself to care about anything anymore and that scares me.
My grades are slipping, my relationship with my parents is straining.
I know that I should try to fix everything while I still can, but I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to do anything anymore.
The thought of dying have been on my mind more than usual. I am not even afraid anymore because the thought of dying is the only thing that brings me comfort and that, ironically, scares me.
Urghhh I just want everything to make sense.
Happy. That’s a word I wish would visit me more often. As I sit here and write my “feelings” or whatever, I think about the “happy” moments of my life. You know, when life looked colorful and pretty.
What changed?
That’s something I would love to know.
I was never miserable. I was always smiling and I did what I was supposed to.
Maybe that’s where I went wrong, maybe I should’ve rebelled a little.
Maybe I should’ve experienced more things.
Maybe, then, I wouldn’t feel so wretched and miserable.
I keep thinking that I will run out of tears, but they just keep coming.
And you would think they would leave a warning? But they just show up out of nowhere ready to hurt me.
It would not bother me as much if I knew
why I felt so sad, then I could confront the problem
head on
But I have no idea what is bothering me,
All I know is that I feel this void in my chest
deeper then a dark hole that just eats at me until I am left just a pile of sobbing mess on the floor
wishing I could just disappear.
I hate my life.
I can’t anymore.
Where is my happiness?
I think it got lost on its way to me.
For a while now, I’ve been experiencing this feeling of emptiness. Things that used to interest me, don’t anymore. No matter what I do, I feel like something is missing. I just don’t know what that is.
It’s so frustrating.
I always feel like crying. It seems like all I do these days is cry; I try to stop, but the tears just keep coming like a broken faucet.
Urghhhh why am I like this? I don’t understand my own feelings. The smallest things make me mad. The smallest things make me sad.
Sometimes, the tears come with no warning and I feel this pressure against my chest that I just want to tear out.
I find myself hiding my emotions from others more often now. Sneaking into bathrooms during class just so I could cry even though I have no reason to do so, Pretending to yawn when the tears just want to flow and my favorite, blaming it on my period.
I don’t know why I am like this. I have no reason to feel this way. I have a family who loves me and I have everything that I need. We may struggle financially sometimes, but that doesn’t bother me. So Why am I like this?
Why do I feel so empty, so lonely?
I don’t understand.
I just want to be happy.
Since I’ve joined this site, I have only posted once. Not because I felt like this didn’t help, but because sharing my feelings is like sharing my soul; and I couldn’t bring myself to share anything truly worth sharing. I wish I’d shared some of my thoughts with all of you guys because maybe I wouldn’t feel so overwhelmed right now. I’m “happy.” I guess.
I keep saying those as if one day even I will start believing them. I can’t open up to anyone in fear they will not understand me. My culture does not exactly believe in mental disorders. This all makes everything so unbelievably intimidating that I am scared to challenge anything life throws at me. I have just myself to rely on and it sucks. I want to have a confidant that is there for me and listens to me and all of my problems.
I want to be emotionally strong enough to handle all of these things that come at me and make me question my whole existence. I hate this. I hate everything. I want to go. I can’t. People tell me to be strong, to hang in there, they tell me these are just hormones. But I can’t anymore. I’m just done. I’m done being strong. For once all I want to do is sleep.
Goodbye
Sometimes I wonder what it feels like to hold my life in my hands, knowing that at any moment it could end. I find myself clutching a knife and wondering what would happen if I just thrust it into my stomach or into my throat. I sometimes go to the bathroom and take the bleach and hold it in my hands willing myself to drink it. Even in my most happiest moment, the thought of death still manage to pierce my inner most thoughts and I become at the mercy of my self-doubts and self-hatred. I think about death more than I think about life.I can never tell anyone about this and because of that I feel like I am about to explode.
I am a coward. Only cowards would search for the easy way and death is the easy way out. I am so weak that I can’t even bring myself to do the one thing that I crave the most in this God-forsaken life. I can’t bring myself to end my life. I don’t find anything to be beautiful anymore. When I look at anything, all I see is wretchedness and brokenness and that includes when I look at myself. I can’t even see my family the same way I used to see them when I was a little girl. Now, when I look at them, I don’t feel love, I don’t feel hatred, I just feel emptiness. What kind of a monster am I?
All I want to do is crawl in a big dark hole and die and I hate myself for thinking this way. What about my unborn children? Am I really willing to take away their lives, before they could have a chance to live? I don’t deserve to live. Even though this note will probably be lost among the other notes right after I write it, I can’t help but hope in my heart that someone will hear my plea for help.
I’ve gotten to the point where I am afraid of my own self, afraid of what I am capable of doing to my self when I am alone. I’ve become my own monster. And I hate it! I want to be happy again. I want to smile a genuine smile again. I don’t understand why I feel the way I do. Is it because of my weight? Is it because of my background? Is it because I am not good enough? Why? That’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately. Why? I don’t know why. And I hate that I can’t understand my own self, I hate that I am being so selfish. People have it worse than me. What gives me the right to feel this way? I am a terrible person. That is why I need to die. My mind have gone bad. Sometimes I feel like I am already dead; in 
those moments, I just lay down on the floor and cry until my head hurts. I don’t have anyone to confide in. No one understands. Right now I can’t help but feel that this might be my suicide note.