For general topics related to the site.
Who else is 22? I’ll even include 23 because I’m turning 23 this year. I feel way older though. Life.
For general topics related to the site.
Back in High School, there was this girl that i like, like A LOT or should i say I LOVE HER. She’s pretty good looking, athletic and the coolest girl that i know but she was out of my league, that’s the problem. I’m this skinny not good looking guy. Like I’m the complete definition of a NERD. But i didn’t care. I had to gather all this guts to prove to her that I can be the GUY for her. I want her to like me. I heard she had a boyfriend and then they broke up. I know it was a good opportunity for me but i don’t want to be that guy, you know what i mean. So i waited for months. Time come and i talked to her and told her what i felt. She told me that she ‘s not ready to have a boyfriend. So i told her that i can wait and i did my best for her to like me. What i did was I save some money even i have a lot of projects and school expenses but i didn’t give a fuck. I bought her chocolates, flowers, and shirts during valentines day and Christmas. I even come to her house to give her presents like cakes and stuff. I thought i’m doing good but i was wrong. I failed. I felt dead at that time. Like my life and world shattered.
Time passed, i get to realize that you cannot make someone love you. LOVE is not about giving or buying someone stuffs. Love is about telling someone you love her and if she doesn’t feel the same way, accept it. I get to the point where i realized that love cannot be rushed or forced. Love is about having someone who feels the same way like you do. I realized that i’d rather be alone for the right reasons than be with someone for the wrong ones. I really love her. I LOVE HER STILL but her happiness is what matters most to me. After that, we went to college and i never felt the same feeling like what i have for her. She has a boyfriend now and i heard they’re doing good. I don’t hate her for that. I guess i couldn’t, ever. And i don’t lose hope that there’s someone out there for me, who will love me back as i much as i love that person.
In my 22yrs, I haven’t been able to make a single friend whom I can call when in need, emotionally. I’m scared I will have to live my whole pathetic existence all alone. I understand that I might deserve it, but I always wishes for more. I’m scared that I will ruin my career cause I’m really not that intellectually bright. Not a day passes by that I don’t wish my death. I’m even scared to fail my own suicide attempt. I really wish I was a better person to be worth living but, I don’t think I can change. Presently I don’t even try to make friends anymore, too scared out of my mind. I’m even scared to meet up with people now a days, scared that they will figure out I’m not worth the time. Btw I’m trying to a pros and con of life and death, any suggestions?
It really pains me to know my birthday is tomorrow. I don’t want to see another day. It’s not a celebration. All I want to do is get so fucked up that I’m out of touch with my existence and tear my eyes out of my head. I hate myself and nothing in this universe makes me want to stay any longer. I’m disgusted with who I am and what humanity is. I want to erase my existence for my birthday every year. 23. I’ve become everything I’ve resented. A robotic person with no character or personality controlled by society to work and live a pathetic life. Suicide is not the problem; living causes the problems.
Have I mentioned i fucking hate myself. Met a guy that was perfect. Had a wild mood swing where I conviced myself everyone was better without me and I broke up with him. Turns out he doesn’t feel like coming back-ofcourse not, Im a psycho.
Having a strong urge to poor bleach over my fresh cuts. Punishment seems rational right now.
Have i mentioned – I fucking hate myself.
where’s my share where’s my piece where’s my side I need comfort I keep trying nothing’s working everything is falling apart no matter how much I try to hold it together I always come back to this because life will always remind me that I’m not worth anything I’m just a nobody and that is okay until the money needs to be made where’s the money everything is about money I’m so tired I work all the time and it is wearing me down I’m falling apart I’m breaking down slowly even though I try to keep it together I try I try I really do but sometimes it’s just too much and I remember that none of this matters when I’m just gonna fall again and again and where’s my piece where’s my bit where’s my offering where is it why does nobody offer because I’m a tool I’m just usable I’m disposable I’m worn I’m worn I’m worn and I’m tired and tired and sad and tired please
sigo sin entender tu decisión.
sigo diciéndole a tus hermanos menores que estás mejor y que nostros estaremos bien sin ti, finjo que así es.
En tu nota escribiste: “Ahora sufrirán los que me hicieron daño…” yo supongo que no estaba en la lista de los que te hicieron daño, pero igual me ha tocado sufrir más que la mierda.
siento no haber estado más ahí para ti.
ahora el mundo arde…
aun estamos recuperándonos, quizás siempre lo estemos.
I suppose I’m new here… or not really… I’ve been on this site on and off for a couple of years maybe. It is today that I do more than read, though…
It is today that I can’t go on, silent… I’m breaking, and hurting, and the worst of all is that it is not me who is hurt. I’m hurting others.
The same others that take care of me. The same others that care for me. The same others that choose to love me. Hurt.
My life is falling apart and it is my closest that are taking the shrapnels… I can’t take it anymore… I’m a fucking mess and I’m not even worth it…
I used to be good at this… Smile, Hyperactive, crazy ideas… still broken, still hurt them, but at least compensated with my best… now… now, I don’t even bother hiding my cuts… now, I smile and even I am repulsed by how fake it is. I used to be a master of a fake sincere smile… now, I barely hold a natural conversation… I sound irritated, when I am only angry at myself… now I am sorry and apologetic more than thankful… Why is that? No one around me deserves this! None of it! No one signed up for this mess!
I’m still sorry, though… I really am sorry for being like this…
And I won’t say it to whomever I mean it, because I deserve forgiveness too little, and they will give it too quickly…
So yeah, I suppose that’s Hi~
nice to meet you 🙂
I’ve been a supporter of the right to die for decades – long before I’d ever need it – and I dearly wish I could avail myself of it now. I don’t think we should have to be terminal even, just incurable.
There’s little quality left to my life. I’ve a myriad of health problems, several of them life-threatening but the absolute worst that I live with is IBS. I live in utter dread of flares and – there’s no gentle way to say this – not making it to the bathroom. That is the worst and makes me want to curl up in the corner and die.
Especially living alone. Nothing like getting ill then having to immediately clean the mess up yourself. A year ago, I thought I desperately needed independent living but I couldn’t afford it. Now I think I flat out need assisted living but can’t afford it.
To top it off, I’m mobility impaired. Osteo-arthritis caused by an underlying incurable and degenerative bone disase. Nothing like sudden urgency combined with being crippled. I’m convinced I got my Social Security disability because the judge took utter pity on that situation and my out and out admission that I so dread an accident at work, I wouldn’t eat ’til I got home.
It used to be manageable until I had colitis in September 2017. Before that, if I had a doctor appointment or social engagement, I could take immodium ahead of time and know I’d at least make it through. That is no longer the case. I have had numerous colon polyphs and am high risk for colon cancer.
I also have gall stones, heart disease and Factor 5 Leiden mutant gene that makes your blood clot (which caused the colitis). I have more but these are the life-threatening conditions. All are conditions that could kill me tomorrow (I should be so lucky) or I could live for 30 more years (unfortunately).
I wish my body would stop torturing me and just kill me already. I’ve lived a full life but no longer do. I’m not young with my whole life ahead of me. I’ve had enough.
Just stop, heart. Stop. Please. I’m begging you.
Dr. Kevorkian was a hero, frankly. If I could go to a doctor and get a pill and swallow it and lay down and go to sleep and never wake up, I would. Unfortunately, even the states that do allow that mercy, only do if you’re terminal, not if you have to live with the constant fear of messing your pants. If I win the lotto, I’ll fly to Switzerland.
This is not a life and the only thing that stops me from attempting to end the existence is the knowledge of what happens if you fail. My life is bad enough without a worsened physical state in a mental ward I’d have to lie my way out of.
If I can’t live, I wish I’d die. Enough!
Lately, everyone else in my life seems to be feeling their luck change or life starts going their way and I seem to be trying as hard as I can, yet nothing. I keep crying hoping it will be my turn, yet it never seems to get there. Everyone says have hope life gets better, yet after all of this time, life seems to just drag on and I can’t keep going like this. I keep a lot of this from my friends because I know it would scare them if they knew what was going on in my head. I don’t want them to think its their fault because at this point this is what I want. Life doesn’t seem to get better like everyone says and I am getting less and less afraid of death. I want to hold on to hope, but I don’t know how when nothing seems to change and every time I drink to try and numb the pain at least a little, it doesn’t work. It just makes it worse so I try and smoke and that helps some. I feel like nothing is going to help and no one seems to be able to listen and it isn’t their fault, I am not letting them in, but maybe someone might notice one of these days? Care enough to try and help me out of this despair and depression. I just feel so alone and I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
Whilst driving to collect weed this morning my phone bleeped a text message alert. ” Here we go” I thought, there’s a problem. I clicked on the text with trepidation, it read ” man, I forgot that”, I couldn’t fucking believe it, I was halfway out to meet my connection and at the eleventh hour he texts an excuse of forgetfulness. No apology , just a declaration the weed had been forgotten. I read the text again, perhaps I had misinterpreted it. Perhaps this guy has been reading James Joyce, particularly ” Finnegan’s Wake” where English is written as a composite language. Perhaps “man, I forgot that” really means ” No problem my end, drop out to collect your weed at your earliest convenience”. No such luck. The more intense your suicidal feelings the more relief marijuana provides. Alcohol is no friend of the suicidal character, Above 50 percent of all suicides have alcohol in their bloodstream. Alcohol is cheap for a reason, pot retails at 10 euro per joint. Everything has a value in the marketplace, the market is saying loud and clear that alcohol is garbage. I remember a slogan on a T-SHIRT “God made grass, man made booze, who do you trust?” A truism is ever there was one.
I don’t really have anything to say, but I think we need a few more happy and hopeful posts. I still have hope things could possibly get better. I wish for everyone here to get better, to at least have one good day before they go. find something that makes you happy. anyways just hope we can take a moment to appreciate being alive for a little, not everyone gets to choose when they die. have a good day/ night.
it ain’t simple.
I need someone to take the phone from me for the overdose. Crystal overdosed is beautiful and still shakes inside 10 days later. Maybe an entire life.
It is beautiful, but nothing kills my thirst to die. This happiness is not true.
Memento Mori dear me.
“who are you kidding? you said it yourself, you are a family of one” – over the hedge.
And now? I read in-between the lines of Mad World “And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad
I’m new. I’m also dreadful at writing and this annoys me most because people tell me how articulate I am when I talk! Arhhhh.
I struggle with BPD and rapid cycling bipolar. Wanting to end it all is on my mind each time I become unwell and I have quite a few death methods now. Lately, I have become more focussed on my death plan.
Unfortunately I also struggle with severe lower back pain which is impossible to manage without very strong narcotics. Ding! They have just been delivered! I’ve been waiting 4 hours. And….Iam out of pills! Clearly I’m using much more than I used to.
After years of abuse and trauma as a baby and teen, I know I’m damaged but I have also had years of therapy! I keep telling myself, you should be over all this by now.
Like many of you here, I don’t generally engage with other people but it hasn’t always been like that. I have had wonderful friendships and exciting and charming lovers. Lots of sex!
I wouldn’t of thought that I would end up going backwards, so that I now find social engagement a huge problem. My impulsive behaviour around disappointment and how I perceive rejection is particularly alarming. I’m not physically violent but the things I say to people when I feel rejected are absolutely appalling. If I do build up a certain amount of trust with someone, I can be reasonable. It just doesn’t get to that stage anymore.
Hope you guys are hanging in there.
Time for my OXY!