My life really sucks
I think that I’m gonna die soon because I’ll get cancer. I’ll have this cancer because of these psychiatric pills I took (and still take) daily for more than ten years
I’m tired of my life, I’m struggling
Why am I me, me? Why are you, you? Why is my life the way it is like it’s a predestined path? Why is yours the way it is? Why do I feel stuck regarding some things and I don’t have people in my life who understand and see things as I do?
I am so fuckin tired and sick of this life, I wonder will it ever change
I feel sad, I feel like shit. Not many reasons to live anymore at the moment.
I wish I had an amazing life like in sci-fi movies
I would kill myself but I don’t because at the moment I don’t have a more painless method of choice.
I feel like I want to explode like a bomb, it would make me happy
I can’t hold on anymore
I think about setting myself on fire.
It’s kinda like I don’t wanna live but I don’t know if I really wanna die
I already have that melancholy feeling when it’s almost autumn
Someone says: I have good teeth, they are white like sugar. A friend replies: mine are better they are like brown sugar.
I have some suicidal thoughts now
We shouldn’t even exist
Some people and my relatives are functionally stupid, I can’t believe I’m part of this “family” but I admit I’m stupid too but in my own unique way.
30 years old, never had sex, never had a girlfriend, never had my own house, car, money, job, still living with my mother and grandmother, they don’t understand me, make my life hard, I take these antipsychotics for more than 10 years, all this time I’ve been suffering so much, I can’t connect with anybody, my neighbors suck. As a child and teenager life had ups and downs. I have problems because of these pills but doctors can’t help me. My father lives on a different street from the same neighborhood, he has his own problems. Both of my grandfathers are dead.
I feel like I have a blockage, I feel like a prisoner, like I can’t escape, like I can’t keep evolving, I feel stuck. Feeling like I can’t take it anymore.
I wish I meet people who resemble me, who can understand me, who share my point of view or ideas, and together we try to achieve some things.
I can’t stop thinking about death. Maybe I would stop if I would find something nice to do, to feel good and to do some nice things that would take my death thought away. I don’t know exactly what things I should do that would make me feel better.