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Let this blood soak in my hands
I’ll take the blade and place it to my neck
How simple is that
Everything is fine, isn’t it?
All it is is anxiety
Or is it?
Let me drown in the blood of my body
What a better way to go
The bones of my mind ache
Emotions are too hard to handle
I know I’m messed up
So what?
Who cares if I understand myself or not
It’s not gonna help
Nothing did
No blade, no person, not the forcing down of emotions
Nothing’s worked.
Who cares?
I need to say something
I need it to make sense
It hasn’t.
I can’t tell if I’m in fantasy or reality
And no one around me knows either?
Who cares?
All of you do
Maybe you’re just saying that.
You’re just saying that.
It’s better when I’m alone.
All expectations fade to the wind.
It’s just me. And I do not judge myself around myself.
But emotions hate me whenever anyone comes near.
My past I hate it.
What it’s done to me I cannot say
Many thoughts I have on it.
None of them are the answer.
Maybe there is no answer.
Who gives a damn?
When I’m dead it won’t matter.
I’m someone who likes to draw, to edit pictures (especially of games) and write my own stories. This year something happened and I lost all interest for my hobbies. I’ve recently just started to regain some interest but… It’s like nothing I do, seems great enough.
I’ve also noticed my friends, that I always share it with, being rather uninterested. I’m not sure whether my perception is just ‘wrong’ or it’s really because I’m shit. I keep thinking: What even is the point of doing this.? If I don’t think it’s good and people around me don’t really care, then why do I waste my time.? I could rather just sit on the couch and watch my favorite series a fifth time with a bag of chips.
I’ve had some dark days lately.. You know it’s bad, when you casually throw around that you want to kill yourself or even just put it into a joke. Even when I didn’t do anything important, I’ve always put a lot of meaning into my art. It was always like: Wow, I actually did something with my day. But now.? I just want to be dead. I don’t want to write about depression. I don’t want to draw faces, that aren’t recognizable as living creatures. And I don’t want to edit something not so beautiful, into something beautiful.
The sad part is, my best friend always makes it about her, whenever I feel bad about myself. It’s unbelievable. I can’t even have an argument with her, she keeps saying: “It’s a pity you think like that (about me)” I had to tell her three times in the span of 2 days: IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU.! My subtle hints of me being miserable, seem to go unnoticed. So I have to tell it, like it is.
Imagine building a minefield around a person and each time you add one more. And you see that person dancing around it. It’s infuriating, when no one gets my pain. I even told her very raw: “You may think, I’m being so dramatic lately and negative but truth is, even when I tell you so much, there’s just so many things I hold back. Things I do, to feel somewhat okay. And what I really fucking feel inside.”
You want the truth.? I live with myself every day and yet… I can’t even put what I go through into words. Maybe I feel like: Oh, yeah this is actually what everyone does. But it’s not.!!! I have a friend, who has about as much social anxiety as me and she explains her daily struggles and I’m baffled how much those sound like my own fears. Or even quirks, she does, whenever she’s scared or tired or stressed.
I can write complicated characters in my stories, but I’m not able to understand, what is actually wrong with myself. If I’ll ever write a book about my life, don’t buy it. It will suck. Truthfully spoken.
I never say this, but thanks for reading this pathetic post… (I did it again, telling myself, that I’m shit)
I wonder, does anyone write letters anymore. It’s beautiful…writing a letter. Conveying your emotions and thoughts on a piece of paper, engraving them forever, and sending them to a beloved person. I wish, that when I find my significant other I can share this with them. It’s sad, how no one writes letters anymore. I wish that people would start doing it again…
I want to hold a baseball bat and just start breaking things. I want to throw whatever my hands reach, I want to hear glass breaking on the floor. I want to scream so loud.
There’s too much anger in me and nothing google says works. Articles just say to redirect your anger do other stuff, just breathe and relax. That’s bs it doesn’t work at all. I don’t think it works that way.
I am mad at my dad for not paying for my bills. He doesn’t care if I die even if this brain tumor gets worse until it kills me. I am mad at him for never noticing me, for not playing his part as a dad. He shouldn’t have brought me to this world. I am mad at him for slapping me so hard I thought I would go blind.
I am mad at my mom for everything. Punishing me until now by letting me kneel on salt or rice. For saying at my face how she prefers my cousin over me as her daughter. I did nothing wrong. I hate her for not listening to me everytime I told her my head hurts and I want a check up. Now I have three tumors on my brain.
I hate them for just being a show off parents. We are a fake family and yet no one knows. They’re envious of me for having a ‘perfect life.’
I hate my brother for not saying anything at all.
Whenever I am close to just breaking things or punching the wall, I played the keyboard. I don’t get why I am so mad but I also start crying. Maybe because I am angry at them for hurting me? Idk. I am so mad and I don’t know how to release this.
I had a dream last night. I can’t remember the full details, but I remember spending a lot of time with a girl in it. I can’t really remember her face, but she was a bit shorter than me and she had longish hair. Those are the only features I can remember from her. We spent our time just doing menial stuff like buying snacks from the gas station and riding a bus. I really felt like she wanted to be there with me. Like she cared about me. I remember looking at her and she had really kind eyes. I really want to hold on to that feeling. Of being with someone who cares about me. I’ve been having headaches for the past few days. It’s probably because I stopped taking my medicine. I need to keep up with that.
Oh, my… Do they ever diagnose you straight? I am diagnosed with SO many fuckin’ shit by different doctors. Like, what is wrong with me???!!!
Is anyone else suffering completely alone? I have alienated everyone who cared about me and I’m on the precipice. There is a tiny glimmer of hope I am holding onto but I fear it is only a matter of time before it is extinguished and I will fall into the pit of absolute despair. Anxiety is consuming me daily and nightly to the point I feel physically ill. I am constantly swaying between trying to be strong and hold on, and feeling completely hopeless and forsaken. I have no support system and I can’t cope with how I am feeling. I am terrified to live with the devastation if the tiny light of hope goes out, I can’t do it, I can’t bear it, it hurts too much and I can barely think straight anymore, I am so overwhelmed. I don’t know why I am posting this, I guess I am hoping someone reaches out to me or can give me some advice or encouragement to keep going. Thanks for reading if you got this far, I know it’s a lot.
i died for you
I’m tired of my life, I’m struggling
torched
torched in a blackendd mirror
asleep among violets
amid sunrise catastrophe
i cannot live
Schizoanalysis yields the gray room when and only when the rhizome comes from the corpus arcum, the body with no organs, the space without limits.
Outside the body, all analysis is possible.
And you can see how this “practice” is completely opposite to a perfect pragmatic approach. It may be difficult to apply your mental faculties when you are focusing all of your Selfhood into a rhizome, and reflecting that Being endlessly back into an undifferentiated fog of experience with no tangible aspect.
I pray to the God who sleeps, that he may take my organs swiftly! Leave me barren, Lord!
I just don’t want to be a part of it.
It doesn’t make sense for me to want to die. That’s why I don’t believe anything can help me change that desire. I’m tied up in this existence for now, but one day I’ll be free to go.
I don’t hate myself for forgetting. I hate myself for not making the memory in the first place. I was too busy…. Being me I guess. I’m sorry
If im not useful then i should die
This is the right thing to do
That is the wrong thing to do
Right and wrong
Im going to die anyway
There is no right and wrong for me anymore
I hate you
I hate you so much
i want to die
This is my mind’s way of never finding happiness. Robbing precious moments of joy when it should be mine. Always living in a high stressed mood always nervous about the uncertainty in my life. Always wondering what struggle will i face. Anxiety of the next challenge life will give me. Always trying to adapt to survive. Condtioning to the state of this world, to make a living. Always missing my family that has died, wishing i could fix my relationships with my parents. Wish i could fix the things of the past i regret. Regretting make dumb@$$ decisions. But i have learn everything the hard way. My father was never a teacher. Curse my sh!t family.
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“I don’t believe in luck! I create my own luck!”. Most people seriously underestimate how luck plays a BIG/HUGE factor in life.
A friend of mine used to tweet a phrase that always sticks with me: “Some people are lucky, some people are not.” That was some years ago, and the more I live now, the more I see (& realized/learned) that it’s true. Most people seriously underestimate how luck plays a BIG/HUGE factor in their lives. Or in life, for all that matters. I don’t know and I’m not sure if it’s due to the meritocracy thing (“If you work hard, you WILL succeed/reach success!”), or if it’s due to the ‘positive/optimistic’ self-help culture/trend/hype that is literally almost everywhere nowadays, etc etc. But I think it’s very naive, simplistic, & ignorant if people seriously believe that they control ALL and EVERY aspect of their life/lives.
Even the posts here in this website that will get popular & many comments, and other posts that get almost no view/comment or even banned/deleted (even though when they’re really good posts, but sadly just very underrated or underappreciated), it also has the ‘luck’ factor in it. And as a result (or even the fatal consequences), no wonder some people in this website will feel even more alone, unloved, nobody cares, and some of them will probably even decide to be ‘gone forever’ by committing suicide.
But back to the main point again: if you really think much more deeper, you will see that it’s all random (yes, somewhat nihilistic). Some people will win, & some people will lose. Some people will survive & live, while some people will die. I always view our human species just like those little ants: There are billions of them on this planet, and some will get crushed & die, while some other will survive & live. That’s basically our human life too. In fact, it’s ALL lives in this universe. Some will live; Some will die.
Lastly, it’s the same thing with all of us here who are depressed & suicidal. You take a look at all your other friends, family, colleagues, or people, and how they somehow are happy, or even successful, and then you think: “Why I can’t be like that too?”, even though you’ve tried or even work really hard. And then even when you eventually see how some of us in this website can finally recover, cured, healed, & finally lead a normal, happy, & successful life too, it will make you think the same again: “Why I can’t be like them?”.
I don’t know if it’s god, karma, universe, destiny, fate, or just simply pure random chances. But to say that you don’t believe in luck, playing at least SOME aspects/parts in your life, that’s just naive, ignorant, & too simple-minded. People who said that probably haven’t truly ‘open their eyes & wake-up’ to reality.
Someone also mentioned they couldn’t even do cancer right. They have experienced one of my fears cancer attacked but the ***** left her alive. Whisper is so relatable sometimes. I may not be depressed but my will to live isn’t that strong anyways.
Hypothetically let’s just say that we know 100% that GODS aren’t real and we dont get punished for committing suicide.
My QUESTION is this: Would more people kill themselfs, without grief and guilt if they knew they wouldnt suffer for it later?
I think ALOT of people would. I mean Alot.
What do you think?
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