The only good moment in my life now is the thirty seconds after I wake up, because I don’t remember who I am. I don’t necessarily want to die; I just want life to be better, not full of exhaustion and pain. And for thirty seconds, my brain hasn’t “woken up,” and I feel almost optimistic.
Then thirty seconds pass. I remember who I am. I remember my place in the world. I remember all my broken dreams and hilariously naive goals. And I just want to end myself.
After stating nearly a month ago that I wanted to participate in this community more, I’ve been silent. Part of it, I’m only slightly ashamed to admit, is damage to my ego: for some odd reason, I thought people would care more. That’s not supposed to an accusation against you, please understand: it’s just me overestimating my value. Overestimating myself has happened more often than I’d like.
Regardless, the majority reason I didn’t follow through on coming around here more is that my mood rebounded. September 2015 has gone really well for me: pretty much everything has broken my way, starting with getting closure on a […]
I’ve lurked here for a few months now, rather accidentally discovering the site when I was dealing with a flare up of my own depression-like symptoms. In my time here, I’ve seen how incredibly caring and non-judgmental the regular community is on this site. I want to be a part of it.
Hello. I am PyroFalkon.
Here’s the thing with that username: five seconds of Googling will turn up my real name. Another five seconds will turn up my history. In those ten seconds, I’ve gone from an anonymous writer to a flesh-and-blood person with a real voice, real stories, real problems, and real accomplishments. I say […]
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