For general topics related to the site.
The alarm is already blaring.
For general topics related to the site.
My cat has been missing since Friday. I miss him and I’m very worried that he isn’t coming home this time, he has never left for this long before. 🙁
The story is unrelated to my cat.
I went scuba diving for the first time in a few years on Monday. So me and my partner get all our gear on and swim out in the lake a little bit. My octopus (second air regulator for emergencies) was leaking air so I was a little worried but it quickly stopped after I fiddled with it a bit. My partner had new gear and wasn’t sure they had enough weights to dove properly. So we’re at the surface and he says he thinks he can get down, then says, “are you ready” and dives under. I still just have my snorkel in at this point so I was not ready. I quickly switch to my regulator and start trying to go down, I was on the surface for a bit letting the air out of my bc but finally get under after he’s been down for about 2 minutes. He’s nowhere to be seen. I swim back and forth in the area for a bit, maybe 10 minutes or so, before I decided he must have went off diving not worried about staying together. That was my first mistake. I broke the first rule of having a dive buddy. We also didn’t bring a dive buoy which you are supposed to have. I should have surfaced then and caught back up with my partner but I was so excited to be underwater again I got distracted by a fish and found the buoyancy course and before long it was 30 minutes in. I was half way through my air supply and 35 ft under, not too deep but enough for a free dive. So the dive area at this lake is a no boating zone and a boat goes screaming right over me, that’s scary shit, I would prefer not to get hit by a boat. This worries me that I have somehow gotten out of the dive area and need to find where I am. I try to find my way back to the buoyancy course staying low in case any more boats drive over, I don’t find it because my sense of direction is shit and it’s even harder underwater with 20’ visibility. So I used my compass and just went westward following the incline to hopefully find shore. As soon as I pop my head up I see the ranger boat, someone shouts at me to get out of the water. At this point I’m wondering what is going on, I see my partner on shore about 50 yards away, so I’m relieved he is okay. As it turns out he is pissed the fuck off and was afraid I had issues and was trapped underwater with limited air supply. He called in the rescue team to come find me. Oof. They evacuated the beaches where we were and they were looking for 25 minutes trying to spot my bubbles but I apparently breathe lightly so they were very small. He called some of my family and told them he was worried and the clock was ticking, and there were all kinds of dive teams coming in to find me. Yep, very embarrassing. Needless to say, future dives I will make sure I resurface if I lose my partner for more than a minute. At least my dive was nice while it lasted, and I always feel so refreshed after a good dive, it feels like you can breathe deeper and stand taller. Of course this time I shrunk under all the stares. Lol. Just thought I would share.
None of it matters to me very much. I’ve reached a point of numbness and confoundedness that has left me adrift and unsure why I was so concerned about anything. I’ll just work some 12hr shifts forever until I can afford to buy some crap I don’t need and cat toys. Why worry? Everybody dies eventually. There’s not enough time to spend being upset over stupid nonsense that isn’t worth the time or energy in the first place.
Not suicide related
At the end of the day, if my mum doesn’t want to eat enough, that’s up to her. Can’t believe someone suggested that I get her some in home care… aaaaaaaaand what are they supposed to do? put some food in front of my mum and tell her ‘EAT!!!’ or start force feeding her with a spoon? No. they can’t do that. And nor can I. Now I’m taking her to the freaking doctor tomorrow. She’ll see that my mum is still rather underweight and… what am I going to tell the doctor? That my mum doesn’t eat enough? Because that’s the truth. My mum saw a dietitian recently and she followed the meal plan for a couple of days and that was it. There’s a huge tub of protein powder in the cupboard and my mum doesn’t even have the right amount (one scoop) because she says it makes her gassy and fart alot. She doesn’t have many teeth and we can’t even afford to get her false ones. Despite me and her having a terrible father (her partner) and suffering from him for years, it’s clear that my mum has neglected her own health anyway.
There’s literally nothing I can do anymore. Hell, the doctor can even look in my fridge and cupboards and SEE that there’s plenty of food and also the food that the dietitian recommended.
Heck I almost want to leave her be, maybe the doctor can change her diabetes treatment because I think she needs that, but other than that… mum can do what she likes. I’m sure she’s sick of feeling powerless constantly. I don’t want to come across as power hungry. I just care about her and want her to eat enough, but that’s pretty selfish of me and I dislike that :\
I don’t even want to go to the dietitian with her next week, because again, what am I going to tell them? That my mum doesn’t eat enough???? Yes, that’s right…
I’ve already constantly encouraged her to eat meals and try different soft foods and she just does stuff ‘her way’ so what’s the point??? AGAIN, if she doesn’t want to eat enough, THAT’S UP TO HER. For the record I don’t always eat enough either. And……????
I’m sorry mum, I wish I could take your pain away.
I do not want to create drama, nor do I want attention. Well, maybe I do want attention, but I am not going to do anything stupid to get it. What I want to do is just disappear. Disappear from my disappointment in myself, from disappointment I have caused for others, and from disappointments I will most likely continue to cause.
I’ve felt this way for at least 45 of my 58 years. Possibly even longer. I was around twelve years when I realized this was a feeling that I would face every day. On good days I could easily put them away in a mental compartment. On not so good days I would have to fight them. On very bad days I felt almost crippled. I never tried to medicate these feelings away with drugs or alcohol, nor did I act out with fake suicide attempts or other attention getting things. Yes I had a couple of times when I truly thought I was ready to do that twice. Both times I ended up getting myself to the emergency room which resulted in a few days stay in a psych ward.
Well, I am at that point now that I either need to go to the ER or figure out an effective plan. I do not want to create drama for those around me ( I have kept how I am feeling from my wife) I just want to disappear…. I am wishing instead of the ER and Psych ward that I could find some sort of hospice if it were available. Ideally I could then just go to sleep. But, such a place does not exist..
I’ve been sleeping a lot lately. Whenever there is things to be done, I simply go to sleep. It’s easier. It’s easier to close my eyes, put on a podcast and go to sleep. It’s easier to pretend there is nothing wrong and that nothing exists outside of my room. It is easier to wake up, look at the clock, then close my eyes again. It’s easier to write all this stuff down than to do anything about it. It’s simply easier. I need to take my medicine. It won’t take itself. Just because some good things have been happening for the past 2 days does not mean it can’t get worse. I hope everything is going ok. I should really do laundry. I have exactly 50.5 hours before my assignment is due. I have not begun. I’m scared and I know I shouldn’t be. I wonder what it’s like to be normal sometimes. To have it together like all those smiling faces. Oh well.
Parts of me want so badly to stop. That hate what I’ve become so much. But this stubborn resistance refuses and clings to existence. So I post here, in an attempt to relieve that feeling for a while. So for a time I can pretend that it’s not hopeless. In hopes of feeling a little less alone. Sometimes it works.
I’m not a cutter – generally averse to injury of any kind. But something to interrupt these feelings – this despair – that appeals right now.
This state will not last. In a few hours, it will have been pushed down again by some form of distracting dopamine. The reality will be suppressed, until tomorrow morning. When I will again spend hours torn between the savagery of my psyche and the exhaustion of my self-image.
I need a personality transplant. This one has no future. Tear it out, and replace it with one that doesn’t respond to reality in such a dysfunctional way.
I’m not constitutionally capable of reform. Too damn stubborn. The rot runs too deep in me. I refuse. I shall cling to my misery, even as it tips me toward annihilation.
So I guess I’m having a crisis over art and gender. Idk my art style anymore and anything a draw/make isn’t good enough. It’s kinda stressing me out because art has been the one thing I could rely on. Idk. Also I’ve been feeling some derealization? Idk. It’s like nothing feels like it’s real but it’s not like the classic derealization/depersonalization/dissociation that psychologists know. Idk. But the derealization feels a lot like what I previously described as dysphoria so now I’m like what if I’m not actually nonbinary. Idk. bit stressed and overwhelmed and I feel like I should die? idk. Logically I know I shouldn’t but idk anymore.
I won’t be sharing some details, i was born in a muslim world, my parents were divorced when i was still a child, ever since i entered fifth grade i’ve been bullied because of how socially awkward i was, i had a computer that i would play games every day so i could ease my mind, i had a teacher that would shout at me even though i tried my best to study, i’ve been depressed for so long, i tried drowning my self more than twice, but i just couldn’t do it because of the ideas that god exists and that i would go to hell, so before i got to finish school at twelveth grade i was forcefully moved to live with my father which was toxic towards me, ever since i moved there i never felt home as i was being checked on 24/7, and by checked on i mean opening the door asking me a question and when i answer i get insulted for my honest answer, that’s where i started thinking that no one cares about me.
To this day i still think about how nothing ever went my way, all i’ve ever wished for was to help people smile, even when i was the one being tormented every day, waking up just to get abused from 6:00 a.m to 7:00 p.m, to this day i still wonder what is my purpose in life, i have no talent, but i just keep living with fear, why?
I keep repeating the same questions about existence, i keep googling to see if there’s anyone like me, i keep searching if there’s anything that will help me, i keep searching.
I’ve seen everything horrible in this painful world, there is nothing that can help me, i’ve been doomed a long time ago.
But i still continue living with no objective, i do have some friends but they’re not the real type of friends, we only chat online and they’re not that active, i don’t know why i defined them as friends in my head, maybe it’s because i’m desperate.
I still live with my father but he seemed to have gave up on me two months ago, he doesn’t look at me anymore, as i shut my self from the world playing games still, trying to forget the past, hoping to find hope for once.
All i’ve ever wished… was to make people smile… not a painful life. To this day i still question if god is real, and what i did wrong to deserve all this, i still haven’t decided to end my life, but the option still remains strong in my head.
I’m sorry if i took alot of your time reading this pointless story of my life, i have no one to share this with, i will remain alone in my life, and i think the button is getting close to be pressed.
It’s been 5 months.. I haven’t cut in five months.. I’m trying baby.. I really am, I want you to love me.. please don’t leave me.. I’m broken but slowly healing.. baby, if you go I don’t think I’ll make it. I push to be better for you, I know I can’t be better for me. Love me, take care of me.. I’m exhausted baby.. I’m tired of being strong, being brave.. saying I don’t want to, when I really just don’t want to lose you.
My skin feels tight.. it needs air.. space in between itself..
Just a little.
A little scratch to ease me into sleep.. I’m too exhausted to rest. Baby, just hold me.. please. I need you. More than ever.
Why are you pushing me away.. you promised.. you said you accepted me.. you said you’d help me, why are you giving up on me..
I’m exhausted, I just want to sleep..
Just one to numb.. one to ease me into sleep.
I’m older now. It’s been years since I’ve visited. They tell you it gets better.
It does. Of course you will still have those thoughts. But they will be in such a quick, passing manner. It gets easier to convince yourself those thoughts are wrong. You have to be nice to yourself. Once in a while they will creep back in and maybe even get so intrusive that you visit this old blog that you haven’t thought about for years. But I know better. You know better. There’s a whole world out there. Sure you’re probably not going to be great at everything like they told you when you were a kid. You can’t do anything you want to. But you can make your small impact and have your experiences and that is enough. You are enough. I am still having to try to convince myself I am enough. But more than half the days now pass by where I don’t think about being less. And I got here by myself. Of course there were others, but I am the only one who has to deal with being inside my head. Changing my thoughts. I make mistakes and people make mistakes with me. We’re enough. As long as we are all doing our best, that is enough.
I’m not going to pick someone to live my life for. I’m not living out of guilt for how my death would affect my loved ones. I’m living because I want to know what happens tomorrow even if tomorrow is full of pain. I have seen pain, and I have seen the other side of pain. If tomorrow is just pain then I know there will be another day when I’m on the other side. I’m living to see what happens tomorrow. What happens in 5 years. I have bad urges still, I have trouble letting people know me. But when I do, they seem to like me. It is becoming much less of a need to say negative things about myself to lower expectations for others.
I have been damaged. I have been so broken inside that the pain ripping through me was almost enough to jump in front of those cars or off that bridge. So broken that some of the happiest days during that time were spent fantasizing about jumping off buildings or crashing my car. I have written notes. My last note was 8 pages long and it just felt like I couldn’t finish it. I still have it, but I haven’t looked at it in many years. I’m not going to finish it, but that’s kind of the point. To know where I came from and to know I’ll never be able to say enough words to justify not wanting to see another day.
The world lost a beautiful man not too long ago. He had the most love in his heart of anyone I have ever met. He was too young to die. He was so fit and healthy. He whistled as he walked. He constantly philosophized about purpose and love. The man was 65 and had the endurance of a 24-year-old. But that’s not how cancer chooses. His brain attacked him in a different way than mine used to. He didn’t have a chance to fight that biological storm. He is gone and his wife is alone.
I am going to live another day to see what happens tomorrow because I deserve that.
It was your birthday just yesterday. Less people every year are writing on your Facebook wall. People are moving on. Still, nobody knows that I kissed you. Still it is just me, feeling guilty for being the one who made you lose your best friend. It didn’t mean anything to me, I don’t think it meant anything to you either. We were both just there. And I hadn’t talked to either of you in years. I didn’t think he still harboured feelings. You were the one who said yes to a dance when I asked you both, you were the one who walked me home. Still, I feel guilty. He wasn’t there for you, and I certainly wasn’t. You didn’t want me there after you had already made such a big mistake with me. And now you are gone forever. I kissed you and you’re gone forever and I am the one keeping this secret. And you don’t even know how guilty I feel because you’re gone. Your whole world loved you. And now nobody will get to meet you, nobody new will know you, none of us can see what you would’ve become. You’re gone. I’m guilty. We kissed.
struggling to keep up in life cause of the vices i caught on during the last few years is making me go insane. my minds a mess, I can’t seem to find peace in anything and sometimes i sob up but don’t have a shoulder to cry on or people to fully express how i feel. I know life is hard but getting through it is even harder, at least for me how am i not supposed to be bothered when there’s literally no tunnel vision. Sometimes i have suicidal thoughts and sometimes i feel like its just a phase I’m going through. I often abused anti depressants and drugs to avoid this but i guess its time i got some help.
So yeah I thought i would never come back here. But yo still here. I stopped posting here for over a year now. Does anyone remember me? If someone does, that means you’re still here huh? I hope you guys are doing much better than before. Even if you guys aren’t fully healed yet, at least much better than before. Me? as usual I still have it in me. Even if I’m a better version of me now, It’s still there. I still feel it. I still see it. I’ll probably continue posting again huh. Hello to my SP friends!
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