My friends have a habit of making plans without me.
I can’t say I’ve got no friends or good family, I have had insanely rough patches and people have tried to help me through it although they never understood. So, why do I feel like I have nothing to go on?
I get upset if nobody understands me, but I get irritated when they try to understand. Because they never get it right. They only mean well. So the question is, do IÂ wantÂ their help? I confuse the shit out of myself.
I want to lose weight, I want to be confident, I want to go out with my friends and not care about what people think of me, but I have no physical motivation, I feel tied down and it’s like my body has been freed from all soul. I am empty.
Today I was told it is aÂ possibilityÂ that I have a social disorder, avoidant personality disorder to be exact. Well. It explains a lot.
tonight I’m running away. I will take 4 packets of pills and find an empty field. That is, if I have the courage.
Â Today is going to be a pile of shit. I’ve noticed a pattern, you know.
One day I’ll be okay, the next a bag of wank. Sorry for the curse words, but I’m cranky and sat in the dark, and I can’t sleep in the dark..
Don’t ask why, all there is to it is my mums bastard husband just came in and turned my light off. I burst into tears, I was terrified. C U N T.
I repeat, I hate the majority of this town.
The reason my sleeping fucked up in the first place is because I’d spend countless nights awake, convincing my friend not to cut her arms, or take too many pills. I never wanted to wake my mum, brother and sister, so I’d hang out of my window to keep it quiet, this didn’t help the fact that the conversations with her were extremely triggering, and I’m already suicidal, and sitting in an open window.Â bad idea, right?
I skyped with strangers, making sure they were okay, friends from my area would tell me whats wrong, and I’d rush to their house to make sure they were okay. I did that again, tonight. My friend was saying how she was going to make herself throw up, and how she was in hysterics, just crying and crying,Â it didn’t help that earlier this evening, her boyfriend, whom she loved, broke it off with her.Â We went round to my other friends house, and both took her mind off it.
It’s sad how nobody has ever done that for me, I’ve lost the feeling I get when I help others. I used to praise myself, and feel better knowing they were okay. Now I quite dislike the majority of people in my area, I don’t talk to people outside of my group, I Â don’t like to leave my house, unless it’s extremely important that I do, like I did tonight.
It’s difficult, knowing nobody can help. I’ve had multiple therapists, all of which have,Â excuse my french,Â fucked off without a phone call, because I had missed a session due to my bi-polar father, whom is constantly prying for my sympathy.
When is it my turn?
I’ve realised I have no friends on here. People on this site, they manage to get along, find each other, and lean on each other. I feel quite alone,even on the site that is supposed to be an escape.
I have begged on my knees, literally, infront of my mum and step dad for a treadmill, and they said yes for my birthday! How great is that? I can finally excersise in the comforts of my own home.
If you had a pill in your hand right now, that could kill you instantly, quietly and peacefully, take you away from all the shit and let it be, would you take it?
I have good friends. A great family. So why do I always feel like I am completely alone in this little, depressing bubble of mine.
I’m not jogging anymore, because people began to notice me and laugh when they saw me in the streets. It just made me feel even shittier about myself.
Back to the drawing board.
I tell people not to hurt themselves.
I hurt myself.
“Please don’t do it” I’ll comfort them, promise them promises that are false just to keep them alive a little longer.
But I want to die, and I don’t want them to stop me.
My life has infact, gotten no better. TheÂ exerciseÂ isn’t looking like anything has changed, I still hate my body. My friends are somewhat ignoring my issues because they make them uncomfortable. Because they never have anything to say to me, so they just smileÂ sympatheticallyÂ and soon enough it’s forgotten.
What I’ve discovered is that my father has been diagnosed with Bi-Polar, and this explains why he’s such a dick when only moments ago he would have been being lovely. But now, he wants to lean onto me. Because I’m his daughter, and the only thing he has left, I feel obligated to look after him, even though I’m not sure I even class him as a father anymore.
Mother has bought me sleeping pills because I’ve not been getting any of it. I’m becoming scared of the dark again, and my light is usually out and if it’s on my mum will turn it off. I just sit in my quilts sobbing like a child. I hear things, I see shadows even though I really can’t see shit. It freaks the fuck out of me, so no, I’m not sleeping.
I’m still cutting my thigh. I cover it up with foundation and things, and use bio oil to try make the scars fade, but it doesn’t work.Every time I harm myself, I do it over the same almost healed wounds and they re-open.
The suicidal thoughts have stayed. I don’t want to die, but I honestly do. I wish I could just fall into a coma or something, so I could just take a fucking break or whatever. I Â don’t want to hurt my family by dying, my little brother is everything to me, but I just can’t stand being miserable a moment longer. I try my hardest to be happy, you know. I TRY.
I haven’t posted in a little while. That’s because Life has certainly got a little hectic for me this past month;
Three of my friends, whom knew I was suicidal, told my headteacher, who then pulled me out of lessons and decided
to get me another therapist, and she also gave me a card that will get me out of any lessons if I get upset/overwhelmed.
I’ve startedÂ exercising, push ups, lunges, jogging. Drinking more water and less junk, I’ve attempted to sleep more but
my insomnia is proving difficult to push at the moment. The friend that mocked me for being a depressed selfharmer
is not speaking to me and I’m completely ignoring her. I have my friends, who’ve proven to be true Â ones who’ve stuck
What I’m trying to say in this post is although I still have days that are dark, the clouds suffocate me and won’t leave me alone,
some days are becoming a little brighter. All this is down to tryingÂ and believingÂ you can do it. The exercising is helping alot
in the sense that if ever I feel like cutting, I’d go for a jog and lose a few pounds instead. Support, love and care is what I’ve needed
and had but I never really saw it and I don’t think my family/friends really knew how bad I was until I started improving. I do still
cut on the odd, but I’ve actually been clean for a week and 3 days. Which I am proud of.
I know that it’s insanely frustrating and hard that when you’re stuck in an abyss of darkness and sorrow, it’s hard to climb out because
alot of the time you feel very alone and hidden away. All you really need is yourself, and after 2 years I’m nearly ‘Sober’ of my bad days
and I hope to get better by my birthday next year.
If anyone ever needs someone, you can always e-mail me email@example.com, and I will be here for you. Stranger or not. Everyone needs someone to lean on.
One of my friends told the head of my school everything. My depression,the cutting, the suicidal thoughts.
Now everyone is laughing at me, indirecting me and I can’t fucking be arsed with it. The girl who is supposed to be my bestfriend has tweeted twice about me,
- “I want to commit suicide for no reason at all lol :):):)”
- “Cuttin my wrists at the moment bcos my friends care about me x”
I’ve read so many of the stories on here, and I feel that I should write mine, too. Although it isn’t as bad as others, it got me where I am.
Two years ago, my friend confessed to cutting herself. I was devastated, and all I wanted was to be there for her. I didn’t want her to do it anymore, I wanted her to be okay. So I stayed up late for her, and I was her personal therapist for a while. This was when i was 12 years old.
My mum fell pregnant and I cried for the whole weekend. I was already neglected and ignored in the home, so why add someone else in the picture? I’d fall off the edge of the frame. That night I got in the shower and thought back to my friend, the razor screaming at me. I was so angry so I grabbed it and ran it across my wrist.
It was all up my arm and I felt so bad. So guilty. My life wasn’t bad, it was great! I had friends and I had family. Why did I do this to myself? I got out, got dressed and cried in my room. My mum came in and I told her because the guilt was stabbing me. She shook her head at me and stormed out, disgusted and disappointed.
After that, the cutting got easier and I soon felt absolutely nothing after every slit. My mum had her boyfriend who she loved, my sister was perfect and mum and Mark adored her. I was ignored, and the issue was never brought up again.
I told the friend who cut, that I cut myself. She shouted, she lashed out and she told me that I was aÂ fucking idiot.Â
That caused me to go in the shower and cut myself, again. I had bracelets for school, and I put makeup over the wounds. Nobody suspected a thing.
Now 13, I got my hair cut off and so it was a boyish style. I loved it, I did! I did have long and (dyed) bright red hair, but i asked the hairdresser to change it to brown again. The boys started pointing and laughing, making comments and shutting me down. My confidence soon decreased into dust. By the summer holidays, I wouldn’t leave the house. Not even to go to the shops for my mum. Â I didn’t want to be seen.
Being a mother, she would press and poke at me to go out and be with my friends but I snapped and told her to leave me alone. I wanted to be alone.
This was when I began to think of suicide. I didn’t have anyone, not really. They were there but they didn’t really give a shit about me.
My baby brother was born and I fell in love with him. He’s so precious, and happy. That makes me cry alot, that he’s so happy. I don’t know if they’re tears of happiness, or bitterness. I used to be so like him. He’s so innocent looking, big blue eyes and white-blonde hair. I stopped cutting because he liked to play with my bracelets and so he’d see the cuts. Obviously as a child he wouldn’t understand them, but I was still ashamed that he saw them.
When I was almost 14, my dad’s wife left him. She was a big part of my life, I saw her as a big sister and she left. I’ve discovered that alot of people I love, leave. Dad was emotionally abusive to her and she had enough. I’d had enough, too. But I wasn’t allowed to stop seeing him because he owed my mum money.
Because of her leaving he picked on me instead. I’m now convinced that I’mÂ ugly, stupid, worthless and a no good *****.Â
It made me cut more, but this time on my thighs. So my brother wouldn’t see. I fell back into the black abyss that I had almost climbed out of, and all failed.
I’m now Â 14, and it’s just been the summer holidays. Again I barely ever went out, only if I really needed to. I’ve become invisible to my friends, my mum still ignores me, my sister tells me I’m useless, my dad continues to abuse me mentally, and nobody cares.
Nobody expect my little brother. Who is now 1, and so big and beautiful. He’s the reason I’m living, and as much as I want to die, he’s the one I’m going to live for. I hope I’m strong enough to do that.
Well, today school got too much for me and I made myself sick so I got to go home. When I was sitting with my mum, we got onto the topic of suicide somehow, (she doesn’t know I’m suicidal) and she said that people who commit suicide are selfish. Do you know how much that stabbed me? I can only think of what she would think if I ever plucked up the courage to do it.
But in my view, not that it matters, people who commit suicide aren’t selfish at all. They’re miserable, and they’re trapped. They need an out and they find one. If anything, the people wanting them to continue to be miserable, are selfish for keeping them in the darkness.
I don’t know. Some people find a good way out, they find a purpose and they live for it. They begin to get better and they live life how they should. I don’t see myself doing that, at all. Not much is worth a smile, these days.