i drive away the people i love. they lose interest. i destroy myself. all i feel is pain all the time and when i’m happy its naive because it never lasts. ill never last in this world. im 18 now, but i feel like a child still. i cant manage responsibility. i let people down. they’re sick of me. i’m a waste. i build myself up just to crash and burn in the worst way at the very last second. and this fucking pain, why do i hurt so much? i’ve tried so many medications, they don’t seem to work. my intrusive thoughts come, and now with even more intensity. i thought i’d gotten better, that i’d improved, but the truth is i’ve remained the exact same. instead, i’ve just distracted myself with going out and wasting time with “friends” who don’t care for me at all. and now my girlfriend is being weird and ignoring me even though shes active and posting and when i try to confront her shes all defensive and then ignores me even harder and my fucking OCD won’t let me stop thinking for a second. i have to remind myself that she loves me, even though it doesn’t seem that way. i thought i’d finally get valued when i got into this relationship, but the truth is, just like everything else, relationships are temporary highs. everyone will let you down and you will let them down. being alone is what i need to do. i need to shut off my emotions. i need to be a machine. this fucking body is a shell. this body means nothing to me at all.
They say every 7 years you’re a different person.
11 months later from my last post, I’ve slipped into the next 7 of my life.
I feel completely different.
The words that leave my mouth and the letters my fingers type sound the same, but I feel everything’s changed.
At this point I’m sure I’m just a circle of amusement for the universe.
I ended the relationship I was in a while ago, because I stopped feeling affectionate. I seriously don’t think I could ever try again, my burden’s too much to carry for the low payout of me. They still have feelings, and all I feel is bad for being unable to reciprocate any. It hurts to see them hurt, but I suppose it was necessary to know so I can’t hurt anyone again.
From my research into self help, I found out how to turn off the negativity, but not heal it. I’ve gone days without a single bad thought, only to relapse and feel horribly sad, right back where it was the last time.
Essentially I’m still digging the hole I’m in, but I’ve learned how to take breaks. I haven’t seen the sunlight in ages, so I embraced the darkness.
I’m alive simply because one death is a tragedy. At the time that I’ve accepted I want to die, a support system flocked over to me. They couldn’t help, and now simply serve to guilt me further into waking up every day. They would all be crushed to see this worthless piece of shit gone, for whatever reason.
I have no dreams or aspirations, no ambition. I would be content just living in some shack by a river, without having to worry about money or the world around me. Unfortunately since I can’t, I just want to die, and not be here anymore.
I hate nothing in this world but myself, and I wish I just didn’t exist to plague the lives of those around me. Everything I’ve liked has lost its luster, and at this point I’m just impatiently waiting to die naturally.
I don’t understand how I’ve garnered sympathy from any of my peers, I’m fucking pathetic.
I wish I didn’t have to be here just to suffer, and have this support circle too good for me.
I wish I could just die so I don’t have to feel sad anymore.
I wish I could just fucking vanish so I don’t have to burden anybody anymore.
I wish my heart would stop hurting with every sad spell and just stop beating already…
I suffer from chronic pain with the carina virus out break I’m unable to get medication. I have 2 weeks to decide. I can’t find anything that’s sure an painless. I was thinking of trying to o.d but I’m in too much pain to move. Im desperate an suffering intensliy with physical pain. flnfrmabove7@ yahoo.com
A couple of years ago I had many attempts of suicide, since then I’ve been trying to get help. Everything gets in the way, stopping me from helping myself. I try and find reasons to start over new or someone for that matter. Now I feel numb and without a single care.
In our household music is everything. I push myself every night to add more and more hours onto my piano practice, until my hands cramp and I can’t play any longer. I sometimes get really angry where I pull at my hair and make my skin bleed, usually screaming my head off, there is no control when this happens. I feel my body get red and boiling rage just sets me off, usually when something like this happens its pent up anger from continued fights with loved ones or non stop drama.
My mum found my old ropes in the hardest to reach place of my closet, who knows the reason for her to be there. That day was filled with many different attempts. The rope had been ready. I had doubts that it would work, the rope was already too thin making it possible to snap from above me. Although I had my other ways. This day had been planned out for months, thinking about it everyday, let me have some sort of relief, knowing that nothing really matters anyway if I’m going to kill myself, so why should I commit to plans and goals? No one is home. I live close to the shops, so I walked down with minimal change in my pocket. I entered the news agency purchasing rubber bands. I and ropes from somewhere else. I can just picture the look on my face when going up to the counter, I wonder if the man had any clue at all. That day was scorching hot, the walk back seemed more tiring then going down. I had my blades, ropes, bag, rubber bands. I guess you’re probably wondering why I didn’t just take pills. I’ve thought this through many times and always come to the same conclusion. My mum takes very strong pills for her, which I wont name. I knew that would be too easy. The amount of times I thought of downing those pills are insane. I love my mum so much and wouldn’t want her to get caught in any trouble for my actions, she would think “if only I hid those pills”. The bag was my last option. This was my first attempt, I had no idea what I was doing, I just wanted to die at that very minute. I self harm, and when I don’t self harm, I think about it. I search numerous articles while sitting on the toilet, pressing bloody tissue to my already scarred skin. I have never cried or flinched really from the pain. I get frustrated for having to hold the tissue, until the bleeding stops. As you’ve probably guessed I’m quite impatient.
I have a scar from that day, the inside of my wrist where you can hear your heartbeat. I used to be able to see the reflection of my own skin, and just stare. Sometimes I get ashamed of my skin or even disgusted. I dreamt of having a future sometimes, but other times I thought that it wasn’t even an option.
I hear the door slam, and I feel all the colour from my face sinks. I’m in my bathroom with bloody tissues that covered the floor. Mum comes in my room and calls out to me. I do my best to cover the scene. One arm foolishly behind me.
I had an interesting childhood… I bet if I told you some of it you wouldn’t believe me. To this day I’m suicidal everyday, but always finding a reason to not go through with it. I have used pills before, but not the kind you’re thinking (Paracetamol). That was the worst throwing up experience I have ever had. Taking 12/13 at once was bound to not stay down. Failing miserably again.
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Some people are lucky; Some people are not.
The more you learn about this world and society, the more you will realize that Life is random (chances), and yes, Life is not fair. Reality is depressing.
Most people who still always keep saying that “if you work hard, you will be successful!” are naive, ignorant, and simple-minded typical “optimistic/positive/happy-go-lucky” people you always see everywhere. And even for those people who realized it and therefore said that what’s important is to “work smart”, it also usually often means to be sly, cunning, opportunistic bastards who are too often selfish, pricks, ruthless, cold, heartless, and only care about certain shallow things like money, profits, power, position. And sadly often for the vain reasons.
There are often far too many challenges, obstacles, and also bad people who lurk just around the dark corners to eat you up, use you, trick you, manipulate you, etc etc you just name it. That’s why usually the truly good people, and the genuinely smart, wise, and idealistic, visionary type of people who have truly great and noble ideas for the progress of the world are often crushed, and losing out to the selfish, vain bastards and pricks of the world and society that I’ve just mentioned above. No wonder there are many stressful, sad, depressed, and suicidal people all around the world/planet.
This world is a shithole. Humanity is sadly not that great. Life is often disappointing. Society is sick. Existence is (mostly) just a meaningless, stupid, and pointless pain and sufferings until you die.
Once again I’m here to read ppl’s agony. It grounds me whenever I have suicidal thoughts. It’s tragic to know that people are there for you but eventually they’ll get tired of your shit and toxcitity then leave you knowing that it would make you misery. Makes me want to kill myself more. I know that I don’t have to depend on people and get their validation but it’s hard not to when you rlly love those ppl around you. I feel like a burden. Always have been. I blame myself for everything and for the existence I found no purpose and not thankful for. I wish I could give my span of life to someone in need or more deserving. It’s my 4th year of depression and can’t seem to imagine that this cycle would continue for far more years to come. Bullshit. I hope that the world would end soon so I wouldn’t have to kill myself as soon as possible. I hate pain. I was okay. But relapse is real.
I think I’m going to book it out of this place after I finish classes for the year. I’ve become an irreversible failure, and there’s no way to fix it this time. Maybe I’ll train-hop out of here. Once I’m gone, there’s nothing keeping me from following through. I’m way too depressed to function anyway. My meds, that I pay way too much money for, aren’t working. Trying to get help doesn’t work for me. My mind’s just finally calm enough for me to do it, not out of a sudden and temporary spike of emotion, but through calm reasoning. I don’t want to be a burden to anyone, and that’s just what I’m bound to be while I’m alive. The one tie to someone I have will be severed for his good; I’m dragging him down.
I always thought I could fix myself enough to be close enough to good, but I guess I’ve finally realized that’s never really been a possibility. Good luck, everybody.
Sorry for my last post. Came off a a bit overdramatic. I tend to do that when I get stressed out.
To be honest, I don’t even have a way to kill myself right now. I was hoping we had some rope in the basement, bu5 a search turned up nothing. And now more than ever I won’t be able to sneak out and by some. Hell, I don’t even know if hardware stores are closed nowadays. The only reason I can think of for them to be open would be so people can buy flashlights or things to help with emergence repairs. I supposed I could order some on Amazon, but that would risk my parents getting to the package first. I’ve tried to kill myself before. Learning I ordered some sturdy rope would instantly tip them off that something is wrong.
Honestly, part of me feels bad about just dying like that. It’s not just the fact that I’d be leave broken home in my wake. It’s the fact that when I look at myself in the mirror, I just have to ask, “Do I deserve it?” Not do I deserve to die, because that would get a resounding no from most people. But do I deserve the pain to stop? Of course, I don’t have it nearly as bad as other people. I come from a loving family, I’ve always been relatively healthy, and I’ve never had anything truly traumatic happen to me. But in a way, that’s the problem.
See, I always come back to this thought process. Every single fucking time. “Why do I have these things?” Why are other people suffering when I’m not? There are probably billions of people who are ten times better than me, and yet I’ve been given a happy life and they haven’t! Why the fuck is that?! I just need to know what I did. I just need to know what I did to deserve this! What benevolent actions did I do in a past life or whatever that caused me to have all this! Because as of right now, believing all this was just the luck of the draw is what’s truly making me hate myself.
In a way, I reacted to these uncertainties by taking things into my own hands. To find some way to bring sadness into my life. To “make things fair” in a sense. If the world’s not gonna do it, it might as well be me, right? Cutting, burning, bruising: self harm is just one of the ways I get rid of this “survivors guilt”. One night I cut myself so far down I could see muscle. Light pink and white muscle. Instead of being nervous that I’d cut so deep, I was almost excited. Overjoyed. I paced around the kitchen waiting for the blood to start to seep out, humming the tune to Silent Night. In fucking March.
It’s not just physical pain either. I also neglect my physical needs and pretty much verbally abuse myself on a day to day basis. I’ve called myself things I would never to say to another human being. I wouldn’t speak to my dog like this! It hurts to be called these things, even if I’m the one doing it. But at the same time I just get so much joy and satisfaction in hurting myself. It’s cathartic. Almost like I’m hurting someone who deserves it. Like I’m getting revenge on someone who’s committed a horrible crime, but the only crime I’ve really committed was being alive! I don’t want to stop, but I know it’s killing me. I cry sometimes. Sometimes the things I say to myself really sting. I’ll bring up my past mistakes, bring out my faults, taunt myself over things I can’t control. I have a full on panic attack sometimes over how much stuff I drudge up from my past. But I know that there’s a part of me that’s just eating it up! Laughing at me as I’m fucking hyperventilating. It’s like I’m an abuser and a victim all rolled into one fucked-up package.
I want to stop, but then again, I don’t! It feels good and fucking horrible all at the same time. Part of me relishes in seeing me suffer and the other part is in agony. I’m in a loop. A goddamn, mindfuck mental loop! I don’t know how to get out of this. I don’t even know if I can or even want to! I’ve tried to explain it to my parents, but I don’t think they fully understand. I’ve always been shit at explaining my feelings. Blame it on the fucking Aspergers.
So, yeah. Just needed to get this off my chest. You know, without someone telling me I’m being irrational or overdramatic. Even though I probably am. I’m probably going to be post more often on here considering I’ll be hauled up in my house for the foreseeable future. Stay safe everyone.
I haven’t left my house for about six days. I was never the outdoorsy type, but this whole Coronavirus situation makes me feel like an animal in a cage. I’m losing my will to do anything productive. A new day comes and all I want to do is sleep. Suicidal thoughts come in more frequently. I didn’t have a reason to live before, why would I have one now? I feel my worse at night, and crying myself to sleep has become the norm. I try to tell myself people have it far worse than me. But knowing that it just makes me hate myself even more. I get into the thought process off “There’s probably a million people out there ten times better than me who are suffering way more, why do I deserve this and they don’t.” A pointless thought process, but I feel if I constantly tell myself I don’t deserve anything I’ve been given, I’ll never become entitled. That’s the plan at least.
And maybe we’re all suffering, but most people have some inkling of what they want to do in spite of that suffering to keep going. Some people have a use, or something kind of purpose. I don’t. And my family can say they love me and would be crushed if I was gone, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m just dead weight in their lives. Maybe it just took this virus for me to fully realize I was a lost cause my friends and family tried their damndest to put their faith in.
I think I’m going to pack it in soon. I already set a deadline before, but times have changed. I can’t be a burden to them any longer. Whether this makes them happy or not, I think this is for the best. One less mouth to feed, one less liability to pour their resources into in a time where the grocery stores are being raided. If I can’t help them alive, then I’m better to them dead.
Ever have these (VERY) rare days, where you’re actually all cheerful and think, today is gonna be a good day? Well, fuck that.
These days seem to always go wrong for me and people never believe me, when I tell them, that being positive just fucks up my life even more…
This day was unbearably chaotic and it’s not even lunchtime. I tried smiling and being social and brave but each step that went wrong, my smile just grew weary. I don’t know where to even put that negativity that brushed over this little happy day. I don’t know how to feel..
Mad, that my happiness got stolen?
Sad, because I can’t even do one thing right?
Or worried, that this sets me back way worse, than any regular day?
But I feel like I’m not realising the extend of that bullshit yet. Like my body was providing me with adrenaline, to deal with all that. It’s a really weird day and I want to laugh, until my insides hurt. But at the same time I want to punch a hole into a tree and scream my lungs out.
All the other days go by, with me burying it deep down. But today? Today is the day, it wants to bounce around, being noticed. I may not have any other conversation today, otherwise I might go crazy on them. And the amount of times that this happened isn’t even funny anymore.
I feel way too much and usually forget, that people can’t measure up to that extend. Even my happiness seems to irritate them. Then why even try pursuing that? Why be happy?
Wow. It really is as simple as that.
I’m having trouble smiling.
Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I try to force myself to smile. People always said if you smile you’ll feel happier as a result. But when I look in the mirror, and I see my reflection smiling, all these nauseating emotions build up in my stomach. I feel irritated, bitter, and almost disgusted. I actually feel disgusted looking at myself. Not in a sense that I think I’m ugly, I’ve pretty much contented myself on the fact that I am and only ever will be average-looking. But I’ve just grown to hate myself when I’m smiling. Sometimes, I’ll be legitimately happy, and then I’ll catch my reflection in the mirror and my mood will turn sour. I’ve started to roll my eyes at my reflection now, out of spite. I can’t look at photographs of myself smiling, and when I do, I always try to avoid looking at myself.
I have no idea why this pisses me off so much. And I have no idea why I keep looking in the mirror, attempting to force a smile, when I always get the same result. This resounding feeling of self-hatred.
I think I might be legitimately going insane and that thought is scaring me. Just how bad is my depression going to get. I’ve been doing this song and dance for 10 years now, and it’s only gotten worse. Am I going to be unable to even look at my reflection soon? Am I going to tear up old photographs in a rage? Destroy all the mirrors in my house? No. That’s probably not going to happen. I think I’ve been watching too many horror movies where the characters slowly go insane, and it’s starting to show.
You know. People would always tell me I had a nice smile. It was one of the common things everyone who ever grew attached to me complimented me about. “You have such a sweet smile.” “You should smile more.” “I’m taking a picture. Show me that pretty smile of yours.” Maybe it just frustrates me that other people get enjoyment out of something I’ve recently started to hate.
I’ve never thought I would be writing this. But I’m going to kill myself ass soon as I gather enough amitriptyline.
I’ve had a very happy childhood and very loving parents. I have always been a little shy, but I’ve managed to make some good friends. I was always very introspective and I’ve always been the type of person who thinks that an unexamined life is not worth living. I am a woman, by the way.
When I started college I had a bit of an emotional breakdown and was prescribed some antidepressants that didnt work, but I never ever thought I would kill myself. I studied both biology and music. I love biology and I love science with such a pasion it makes me teary to just think about it sometimes.
So I have loved ones and I have a pasion, but 2019 kicked me hard. Firstly, a weird rash appeared on my entire face making me a complete hard-to-look-at monster. Dermatologists said it was incurable, so I had to get used to the idea that I would never have a partner (or a man interested in me) and probably would never have children. When I thought I had hit rock bottom, it turned out that the rash was a product of another disease that brings me constant and painful headaches and trouble seeing. But thats not the end of it, I also have a problem in my stomach that makes my throat hurt every moment of the day. Its been 4 months of this nightmare.
Ive been to numerous doctors and nobody seems to know what to do, and they keep telling me that what I have has no cure. But I have to keep living with it.
How am I supposed to live with contant pain and with a hideous face? Every single one of my dreams would be impossible now.
I’ve had the courage of telling some of my friends that Im planning on commiting suicide and they all just tell me to keep waiting until things get better. Things will never get better. I’m an invalid watching the whole world have fun and fulfill their dreams, while I’m at home in constant pain that will never stop and knowing that I will never have a significant other.
I feel betrayed by life, and worst of all, I feel terrible I didn’t enjoy my healthy years as much as I could’ve. So much time was spent studying and working, preparing myself for a future that was never meant to come. It breaks my heart.
This is the first time I post something in the website. I was trying to explain why I’m sad but fuck it, I would need to write a whole book to even start. So I’m just gonna say how I feel. And even that is hard, because I always minimize my pain and I make myself look like I’m overreacting to everything. So I keep things to myself till I fucking blow up to the point that lately I can’t even go out with my friends to have drinks because in the end I end up fighting and yelling at them and feeling shitty the next day. Hating myself and pushing them away because I feel like a fucking burden. But at the same time hating them for not trying hard enough as I would try for them to be okay.
And today I feel like that, like I’m not worthy of anything. Of anyone. I’m even considering leaving my boyfriend, even though he is one of the few people that make me feel happy. But that’s the fucking problem, I feel so happy with him that I don’t think I deserve him and I know he will eventually get tired of me and I don’t want to make him go through all of my breakdowns.
I fantasize with death often, but I make an effort to think that maybe things will get better eventually. But lately I find less reasons to stay here. I think it’s not worth it, just like me.
There’s been way too many times, where I’ve been jealous of my brother. May it be his appearance or body in general. Or his great health.
I just don’t understand, what went wrong with me, when my family is able to have pretty children. Like what the fudge am I.?
I work really hard on myself, yet can’t ever look as good and be pain-free as them.
I love, how my ‘obsession’ over that, makes me look narcissistic in the eyes of psychotherapy.
I’ve got the word written down a lot of times in my last Psych-report.
Now I’m just wondering… Aren’t ‘people like me’ just meant to be that way.? Pretty people don’t ever have to think about all that crap.
All this self-hatred, just because I wasn’t lucky enough.
I think I made this post after two years since my last post, because I’ve been trying to connect with old friends. And they all look good and happy. And I’m still stuck after 6 years.
I love my mind, my creativity and even the dark places it can go to sometimes. But… My body is all ‘wrong’. Positivity is really not for me, I fall harder whenever I try.
When you love your mind that much, that you’re scared to die, but don’t see another exit… What do you do.?
(I hope I didn’t make someone hate themselves even more, rather than thinking: This person has the thoughts, I’ve been having today. Also, looking up your friend’s life’s on social media is always a bad idea. They might suffer as much as you do, but try to pretend it’s glamorous.)
I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I never said i was a good person. Ive always said i was a bad person. Am i? But is there really a black and white definition of a good person or a bad person? Most would say its your actions that speak your truth. But everyone has been horrid or a little rude to someone and everyone has been the slightest bit sweet to another. Where is the breaking point? Where is the point of no return? When does good become bad…and can you have a come back?
I ask you this because ive been cruel and ive been sweet but i have no clue which side of the bar i stand on. Ive ruined people. I have hurt them so deep they wont beable to forget my face or the words that have pierced them like a thousand razor blades. The scar only worsened by its resurfacing in the mind. But i have also been a person that has helped someone off the ledge. Held theyre hand in the deepest darkest depths of hell and gave them the courage to climb theyre way out. Well i cant say i did that. They did it themselves. They only heard words and turned them into something beautiful.
I feel no matter how much i try to become better my sins with be latched to me as shackles dragging me closer and closer to hell. Ive watched what ive said, what ive done. ive been more courtious. But the thoughts…my thoughts are like a wild fire. Spreading to every bone nerve and cell. Hoping to take all the anger, the hurt,betrayal and spreading it to everyone like the plague. Rain a million arrows over there sky till they can no longer see the sun shine. Why should they be happy? what did they do right? What did i do wrong to turn into such a twisted mess?
But then sometimes theres this other voice that comes to light. No one deserves to be in pain. No one should feel alone or that the world is against them. That no matter how locked away or how small they make themselves…they’re never safe. That theres no peraon or place left to go.
Ik ik the question is, “where are you going with this?”
The honest truth is i have no idea. I have no voice in my day to day interactions. This is a place to be heard.
Heres my story of wherei am today. If your willing. For all i know youve scrolled on.
I grew up in fairport till i was 7. My mom split when i was 2. I was left when my father and my sister. My dad was a sad, angry man. For a good 6 years my dad couldnt handle the sight of my sister and i because we reminded him of our mother too much. We stayed with my older sister and her kids a lot. Shes considered crazy by doctors. So why he thought that was a good situation is beyond me. But remember when i did see my father he was always cry. Sometimes i cried with him. We left fairport to rochester to be closer to my sister and near his job. I jad to say goodbye to my few friends. Thats when life started to get lonely. I only had a sister i fought with constantly and a father who was always mad. He’d scream a lot. My escape was staying at my older sisters. My neices and nephews were fun to play with. Until one wasnt. My neice was fucked up by another person. She did things to me she shouldnt have because they were being done to her. I was 8, she was 12. This was the firat rime i wanted to die. She told me if i wanted cash to talk to her step dad. I being 8 didnt think much of it. Never visited again. She endes up pregnant and her step dad ended up in prison. My older sister got onto bad terms with my dad so i never got to see them till way later.
I entered my new school in 3rd grade. No one talked to me and i was very quiet and shy. Pluse i was a weird kid. They were worried about me to so would always send me to talk to someone in school. I didnt make ant friends for a few years. In 5th grade the teacher made a rule no one could sit alone so i didnt sit alone.
The only reson i ended up with friwnds was yth grade this girl wouldnt leave me alone until i agreed we were friends. She introduced me to my future nightmare, mags. Mags and i were inseperable until 10th grade when she got caught drinking underage. She got me into drinking,smoking, ya know…bad stuff haha she moved away to her. (More to her later)But right before she did she introduced me to my second worst nightmare. Jake. I thought it was love at first sight.i was 15. We talked all summer long while he was on vacay. He came back and he imediatwly cheated on me. I easily fargave him but it was the wrong choice. We had a 4 yr toxic relationship…raised voices,slapping, pushing…i thiught it was love…it wasnt. One day a nice morning with the sunlight shining in we were in his bed. I was 17. We’d already done it. But..this time ws different. I didnt want to. I pushed him away until it didnt work. With all the shock in my body. Nothing came out. Not even a whisper…no words. This was the second time i wanted to die. I tried to o.d. on pills i vomited and went back to life like nothing happened.
Time passed and i gained some new friends. Bry and pugz. I still to this day dont know what id do without bry. My conscience, my rock. Pugz still a great funny girl.Mags came back and she brought raina with her. We were what most considered stoners. Till i went to the wrong dealer. I started to find a new frenzy in the worst of times.we come back to this.
I graduated high school barely. I was told i was lucky. I passes by the skin of my teeth. I disnt know what i was going to do. I went to beauty school to find out it wasnt meant for me. Instead of doing anything worth while. I hung out with friends all the time, getting high, dping nothing. One random day in the summer K (old friends ex i was therapist buddies with, told each other everything) wanted to chill and go see a movie. We chilled for a while drove around. We randly tickeled each other. Until je said kewp it up he’ll pull over. I tried to call hia blufd but he did. At a random garage. I got out smoked ww chit chated. We got back in the car still talking. He tickled me so i tickled back..
But then he reached over and put my seat back. He got on top of me grinding his body on mine. I didnt want anything. I said to stop.He kissed and licked my neck and whispered i know you want to. I told him no but he continued what he was doing. ” ur telling me this isnt what you want”. I said no. He pushed himself against me one more time before getting off. I cried all the way home. A moment i learned no matter how close u cant trust anyone.(he contacted me a few days ago asking to chill, we talked about him seeing a movie with his girl it was theyre first date… The movie we were supposed to see that night, my stomach churned at the memory)
….I kept up with my secret nose candy. No one new except a few. Dating someone whos friends with a dealers girl makes it hard to to continue. Thay relationship was based aeound the drug and endes abruptly and it was the first rime i tried to be clean…but then i found zac…someone i still love to this day..best 6 months of my life it felt like. Partying, making lots of friends, i got skinny and felt beautiful, i had a decent job. But under the fun mask i felt lost in my past and broken down…the drug was my way to cope and to blend in. He dumped me…and i spiraled put of control until i ended up in rehab. I feel like it gave me a fresh start. I met so many people i could relate to. But when i lwft my safe haven was gone and ot felt like i was back where i started. Beoken and scared.
I moved in woth my mom amd my step dad who were having problems. I told my mom stuff my step dad told me and he kicked me out after 2 months. I guess u shouldnt tell ur mom ir step dads sewing and talking to his ex….moves back in woth my dad i was around my friends but after being gone for so long they didnt feel like my friends anymore. Except bry, zac, pugz and mags. Mags moved in when i moved back. Zac was so sweet to me again. We started the flame again. But one night he had to work l, a guy i went to high school with asked me if i wanted to go to a fire with him and his friend. It was in the woods. We were all drinking. We all jumped into the cold creek. I remember laying by the fire to warm up. I blacked out or passed out idk but I came to when i realized a dick was being shoved to the back of my throat top speed. The other trying to fuck me. I pushed them off and grabbed my shoes and ran out of the woods as fast as i could. When i got home i was locked out. I had to call mags bf to unlock the door. I still regret not calling the cops but i jist wanted it to be over. Thats all ive ever wanted was for all of this shit to be over. A few days later i relapsed on coke and tried to kill myself.
Why is it at that point people come around? People acting like they care when they barely did before.
I honestly cant remember the point of writing any of this. All ik is mostly everyone is gone. My dad and i barely say words.same with my mom. I just work and come home like a robot. I sont want to feel anything. Everyday i think about eope and a bridge but i dont do it. Thinking aboit how to do it calms my nerves.makes me think if all else fails…theres my solution. But i wont. But i want to. But i wont. I cant. I cant hurt anyone. So im trapped in my mind bubble expecting it to burst at any second…but it doesnt. I am 21 yrs and i dont even know if time will change anything.
I feel it in my chest. Everytime I think about her being with him knowing she wants to be with me…….I feel it again. I can’t think unless she is with me. I can’t eat. Nothing is the same. I need her. The thought of her with him…..I feel it again. We are happier together. I want her to know that. I need her to know that. This..this pain. This ache, this throbbing its like my heart beats for her…so without her……I’m Feeling it again
Chronic PainFamily & Friends EffectsGeneralI Will SurviveMy Suicide NotePoetry & ArtRantsStories of HopeStories of LossSuicidal Survivors
Life is not fair
Some people are lucky,
Some people are not
Some people live a successful & happy life,
Some people fail miserably & even commit suicide
Everything is just only a random chance
The universe doesn’t care
We are just only a tiny little speck of dust in this vast universe
One thousand, one hundred and fifteen days have gone by since we discovered you were no longer a part of this universe, our universe. It has gotten easier to process but it’s still not easy. The shock of it never ceases. It is still surreal. How can I summarize in words the cluster of pain we feel everyday given your absence? Let’s see. The reality that you are missing and missed our daughter and son’s 16th birthdays, his phenomenal culinary skills, his dream of becoming a chef and his fascination with living in Japan someday, our daughter’s early high school graduation, 18th birthday, first year of college and her being on the honor roll with a 3.81 GPA and her extraordinary producing and deejaying talents, is saddening. The reality that you will not be present for other monumental moments in their lives such as college graduations, weddings, births is even more heartbreaking. The thought that our beautiful daughter and handsome son haven’t had a male role model since you left, causes tears to well in my eyes almost every single day. When our son comes to me asking questions only a man can authentically answer, I do my best to fill your shoes but I shouldn’t have to. When our daughter tells me that a young man she’s dating reminds her of you in the way he protects her, it’s bittersweet. Bitter for obvious reasons and sweet because she at least has someone who, for that moment, is a positive reminder of you. You left us to pick up a million shattered pieces. You left me to raise two human beings that we created together, on my own and it hasn’t always been a breathtakingly gorgeous emotional walk in the park. There have been and will be countless nights I shut myself in and weep silently in my pillow so not to cast any more of a crushing burden on our children. Why couldn’t you have been strong enough to pull through the rough times? Why couldn’t you have in the darkest of hours, seen their four impressionable eyes staring back at you, counting on you to be the protector as you’d always been? Where did the tragic turn in the journey begin and ultimately end? Why did you let go of this thing called life? Was there something I could have done or, anyone for that matter, to change your mind? Is it unfair of me to call you weak, curse your ashes and regret the day I met you? Absolutely because obviously, you felt an indescribable hopelessness in which I simply cannot fathom. This tragedy has taught me, albeit a process, not to project so much but to lead with compassion, understanding and empathy. One never knows how rough someone’s terrain is until they too walk on that very terrain in that someone’s shoes. Just because there’s a smile on someone’s face doesn’t always mean their spirit shares that very sentiment. Who am I to judge you? Will I still have my moments of anger, sadness, confusion and a whole bunch of feelings and emotions I sometimes choose not to control just so I can allow myself to feel organically, versus distract myself and become numb? The answer is a resounding yes. I’m human and I’ll always wish you were here to see our babies, who are now young adults. Watching them triumphantly maneuver through this cold world we live carrying the legacy of you not being here on their backs, assures me they are resilient and in time, they will be just fine. They are truly champions and my hero and heroine. I cannot help but acknowledge and credit you though for most of what you instilled in them during the brief time you had in their world, which contributed to the stand up and strong human beings that they are. Thank you for that because outside of God’s love, those very attributes are the things that have enabled them to keep moving forward and upward, even when the light is so dim at the end of the tunnel. Not a day goes by in which we don’t share a story and/or a laugh about you and despite it all, you are terribly missed. I know that it will never be easy but each day, it will get easier. Continue to rest in peace.