It’s as if there’s a part of me that rejects happiness.
I didn’t have a childhood; I don’t remember it. I don’t remember anything properly until age 13. I’ve heard stories; trips to disneyland, birthdays, holidays. I don’t remember anything.
When I was 15, a memory came back to me. A series of memories, in flashbacks.
I was four. I remembered all those times you left me alone in the basement; I remember crying so loudly that the neighbours called social services and I almost got taken away. I remembered that time you were on the telephone, screaming to somebody that you were going to kill yourself and me.
The last memory I have is of the day you […]
I’ll pass the torch to you my dear,
You’ll take my troubles; take my fears.
Don’t worry love, it’s not too bad
Forget the life you could’ve had
Honest smiling, laughter too,
That kind of stuff’s just not for you
You’ll live for me, fix my mistakes,
I’ll be there every step you take
So you’ll remember,
And not forget,
That I left you, no regrets
Why do you cry, what’s wrong pet,
You’re only paying back my debts
Why have hope when you have me,
I’m all you could ever need
I’m by your side, and this is true
I’ll always look after you.
psych
I’ve failed myself, once again.
Two weeks ago, I threw away my blades, and said “This time, I’m stopping”.
I didn’t cut for two weeks. I snapped bands against my wrists until my skin turned purple, and dug dents into my skin with my nails, but I didn’t cut.
I went to the store today and bought a new straight edge razor.
I cut myself.
I gave up.
I don’t think I can do this anymore…
I’m 17.
Turning 18 in a few months.
I’m 17. A senior in high school. I’ve been around for less than two decades and I feel like I’ve been around forever. Time passes by too slowly, each day is longer than the next.
I don’t think I can do it anymore.
I’m tired. I’m so tired. Of fighting myself, of struggling, of not sleeping, of my thoughts, of the loudness, of the pain, of the medication.
I just wish that my brain would be quiet. It’s too loud. Everything hurts.
please
make it stop
Anyone else on here have extremely loud, racing thoughts?
It’s like there are 50 different thoughts at once, all yelling at me.
:/ I mean it’d be nice to have a quiet mind, for once.
Ever since I was nine years old, I remember always thinking that my father was going to leave me. He always used to tell me that he was going to send me to live with my grandmother just to make me upset. He used to leave me alone in public, in the metro, in the mall, on the street.
My mother did that too. She used to leave me alone in the house for hours at a time when I was three. My neighbors had to call social services, and I was almost taken away. Sometimes I wish I was.
My father still does this to me, […]
I’ve always been the kind of person who remembers things; every little word, every little insult thrown at me. I remember the first time I told you about my self-harm. I showed you my wrists. First thing you said? “Good luck finding a job with those; they’ll all see you’re a crazy *****”.
So I began cutting my legs.
You caught me cutting a few months later. Clearly upset that you weren’t able to control the situation, you spit your venom at me once again.
“Give me the knife,” you said, “I’ll cut you deep, stop being such a *****”.
That’s why today, when you looked at my scars […]
I’m completely isolating myself from my friends.
One of my best friends is visiting after being gone for a year, and I cancelled our plans, both times.
I can’t get myself to leave my house- the thought makes me feel physically sick.
I hate going out, because putting on a mask physically and mentally exhausts me.
Please make it stop,
It won’t end. It really won’t end, and I don’t think I can keep going.
How am I supposed to fight this battle empty-handed?
I’m 17, and it’s been two years since I’ve slept with the lights off.
I’ve skipped countless sleepovers because of this; I’m too embarrassed to tell anyone.
If my dad turns off the lights when I’m sleeping, I wake up a few minutes later, sweating.
I hate ptsd.
You ruined my life.
I hope it was worth it, hanging yourself. Just know that the day you killed yourself, your problems didn’t go away. They were just handed over to me. Your other kids are fine, don’t worry. Even the one you put up for adoption; she ended up with a great family. You would’ve like her, she looks exactly like you. In fact, she looks so much like you that I can’t look at her.
If it makes you feel any better, I’m the only one that you ruined.
Your suicide note was fantastic by the way. “Tell her I’m sorry” written over and over is […]
I’ve been stuck in the “depression pit”, as I like to call it. I have depression, but I’m also bipolar (type 2). Therefore, when I hit the depression part of my cycle, it’s multiplied and I pretty much isolate myself until it goes away.
I haven’t been doing well recently. Every time I think I’m going to stop self-harming, I do it again. My legs are a mess. I was clean for a week (not a big accomplishment, but it was a great improvement for someone who cuts multiple times a day). I cut this morning.
Why is it that the only way for me to gain […]
It’s funny what people think will make me feel better. I’m tired of proving to people that I’m trying everything in my power to fix myself. It’s not working. Medication’s not helping me either. It’s like I’m stuck in a whirlpool, drowning.
“Exercise, it’ll make you feel better,” – I lost 35 pounds in the past year.
“Focus on school more, it’ll make you feel better”- I have a 3.8 GPA and I’m graduating with honours
“Socialize more”- I have a great group of friends
“Find a new hobby”- In the past year, I’ve learned fluent ASL, improved my drawing skills, learned how to knit and crochet, and finished […]
I hate this feeling; not being able to help myself.
“Here’s your medication,” she said. “You should start feeling a difference in about a month.”
It’s been two months.
“In the meantime, just keep doing what you’ve been doing,” she said, flashing me a plastered-on smile. “Go out with your friends, keep occupying yourself with your hobbies, keep up your good eating habits and exercise routine.”
“You’re doing everything right, just keep it up”.
It’s not working.
I met the perfect guy.
He’s tall, handsome, and the prince I’ve been waiting for. It’s as if he stepped out of a fairytale, ready to whisk me away.
Kiss my scars, stroke my hair.
I’m too broken to care.
“Maybe if you find true love, you’ll be happy”
I’m not happy.
It never stops
My brain works too quickly, there are about 15 different voices in my head, they never stop.
They’re all yelling.
They only stop when I cut.
I promised myself I wouldn’t.
But I did.
Head tilted down, knees on the ground,
I will ask,
Please,
Save
Me
I’m fucking done.
She destroyed me, wrecked me, broke me.
The day she killed herself, all of her fucking craziness was handed down to me. I’m the only one out of my siblings that has inherited her crazy fucking genes. It’s too fucking much. Bipolar, ocd, tourettes, depression, anxiety, what fucking else is going to be thrown at me? I’m so tired. I haven’t slept properly in over two years. I can’t turn off the fucking lights because I keep thinking of her hanging.
My dad’s no help. He’s openly said to me that he ignores what I’m feeling, and doesn’t give me emotional support in the hopes […]
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