I did this, you can too.
I Will Survive
It’s been a long time since I’ve been here, over 2 years actually. For those of you who remember me, I used to post here a lot around the summer of 2018. I won’t summarize the content of what I posted here, but the gist of it all was that I was in a monumentally bad situation and very very close to ending my own life.I f you’ve read my post history, you may have noticed that my posts stopped suddenly after something that sounded like I was finally going to go through with it. Well I can confirm that that’s exactly what it was, and that’s exactly what I did. Fortunately, I failed and my relationship crumbled to pieces soon afterwards, around the beginning of 2019. That was the worst year of my entire life emotionally, mentally, and physically. I can honestly say I have never felt more absolutely shattered in every way than I did then.
Yet still, I made it through. I kept pushing. Now I have a happy, stable relationship with an amazing woman and my career is finally getting somewhere. I just wanted to come back here to tell all of you that the endless dispair you’re probably feeling right now can and does end, and things do get better. It takes time, effort, and usually involves physically going to a different place away from your abuser, towards opportunity, or even just out of your comfort zone that’s keeping you from evolving past your demons. Cut bad people and influences out of your life if you have to. Do whatever it takes to change your situation for the better. If you do, you will come out on the other side a better, happier person. I promise you.
I wouldn’t be here today if that weren’t true. Keep fighting, everyone.
What happens after we die ? I wonder. Am I gonna find myself in a beautiful village with habitants full of love attention who would care for me when I’m sick, be happy for me when I succeed, accompany me in the worst times. We would laugh together about silly jokes, eat every meal together, play outside and take care of Farm animals. The view from our house would be breathtaking and everyone would get along. But most importantly, I would have forgotten everything,, every little bit of abuse, self hatred and abomination from this current life. I really hope this heaven awaits me for I am coming soon.
I’ve been more suicidal than I have in a long time. It’s how I found this website. Earlier, I got close, but I saw my rock collection out of the corner of my eye. I hadn’t looked at it in a long time, and I don’t know what compelled me, but I distracted myself by picking up my rock collection, telling myself things I already knew about some of the rocks. Which ones were sea rocks, which ones probably came from a river, etc.
Somehow this distraction led to me absentmindedly cleaning (a tiny bit of) my huge depression mess, and I found some tiny things. I found the receipt from a small shop, from the last time I got boba with my two friends. I found the tag from the stuffed animal my friend gave me for Valentines – it says “chocolate-scented”. I found the random key my other friend gave me, just because she knows I like keys. After finding these tiny things among the mess, I just said to myself – “I’m glad I didn’t kill myself.”
I didn’t even really mean to say it, it just kinda came out. Of course I cried a bunch, before and after, but finding these things was a nice experience. It’s so easy to forget about them sometimes, among the horrible experiences day after day – but I love them so much. I want to keep them somewhere I can see them, like I wanna hang the receipt on my wall or something.
It’s hard, but I will keep going – for the little things like random keys gifted to me and boba receipts, even if it sounds silly.
I used to come to this site a lot as a 13 year old. My username was MadeToFade.
Im Jamie. I’ll be 24 in late July of 2021. Before suicideproject was a .org, I came to type out my feelings. I expressed my frustrations and sadness, but I also conversated with a male 22 years older than myself on that website, underneath the old username Ive given above.
Due to observation by members of the site, it was pointed out that “Nolen” was in fact an adult, and “MadeToFade” was in fact a minor.
I am thankful that someone noticed and felt alarmed enough to say something.
Unfortunately, the observations and comments werent enough for a criminal charge, or much of an interrogation at all.
I am coming to this website now because I have no one to talk to about this particular time in my life. Well, I have a few people (including a licensed therapist) that I could go into detail with, but it is very, very uncomfortable. My hope is that this place will be the one where I can share my experiences openly and readily, as I assume that you, the reader, is not familiar with me personally and probably has no idea what I look like, who my family is, or how exactly this all played out and the shockwaves it has sent throughout my family and into my future.
I am deeply troubled by our world’s treatment of victims, especially in recent years. I am also deeply troubled by false accusations. My experiences are anything but false. I live every day hoping that I die.
Right now it is 1:30am. I have to sleep for work in the morning. Ill be back.
Each and every passing day I get closer and closer to being able to fully commit to killing myself and throughout my life its caused me to take a deeper look at life including my own as a whole.
Life is rife with issues and has begun to feel like its not even worth living for, even with all that I have in this life. Family, friends, acquaintances, and activities are the only things that really keep me in this life living through it all. But even now I find myself giving into these horrid thoughts, even with the kind of blessings I have had. I just feel its become extremely mundane and pointless if nothing is really changing for me even when I try to actively change for better. I feel stuck like I get to see everyone in my life move on and live and I am already dead just being dragged along by time like a walking husk. I hate it. I feel like I’d rather die than have to see another year of any of this. And with every passing year I’ve forced myself to live through, I’d always lie and say I feel better or these last couple years were great for me when in all actuality I feel the same as when I was still at my lowest point. I just can’t let go and I have too much to deal with because of that ineptitude and all of that leaves me totally feeling incompetent, almost less than human. I put off so much in my personal life, my physical health too and now it is affecting my mental health to a varying degree. The littlest things used to never bug me in life but after having just a couple of injuries and recovering from them but having the lingering pains and than newer injuries occur I am questioning what is the worth in doing anything active anymore that I really enjoy to do in my life, and I am not even an old man yet… I just want to give up already on everything and everyone because of all these things I can’t seem to change or do or keep on top off fill me with suffering and regret. I don’t want to live my life for others expectations anymore and feel like I am betraying everyone every time I quit at something because I can’t do whatever it is that is needed of me to do. If I stuck everything out it would do more harm because I’d really end up killing myself eventually because of health reasons I am not on top off and mismanaging. Also if I got a hold of money and was in more of a mindset to fully commit to it that might finally set me over the edge and I might give in to such thoughts. In the back of my mind its always there as a reminder to not slip and let go like that. It hurts because you begin to self identify with being a failure in life and you honestly just want an excuse to flunk out of all the bs which life puts you through but in a sense are too much of a failure to fully go through with something so horrible either. I don’t see the good in things like I used to either, even if I still try to see the good I end up seeing more of the bad and it impacts me more than good used to. Its gotten to a point where I spend hours randomly searching the internet to understand what is wrong with me or how to process my own suffering without totally giving into it and acting out in self destructive behavior.
With each and every passing day it just gets worse and worse though and honestly speaking I am afraid to grow old and my suffering get to such a level where I become an even more pitiable existence than I feel like now. If I imagine my life in the future I probably won’t live to be 30 with how I am managing everything and I am around my mid 20s already. I don’t see a way out really without making major changes. It feels like I have lost some greater part of my own human capacity to be able to even handle anything normal in life. The harder I think about it too the more it feels like I am confirming my worse fears that there is no real or true hope for this life currently with such an outlook. And that I don’t want to really be here existing anymore how I am currently and it doesn’t matter with whatever I have to hold on to for none of it is truly my own in reality. Its gotten to the point where with each and every passing day there is a prolonging of some inevitable unforeseen circumstance that finally marks my end day upon this Earth, and the only real thing I can think off is to kill my current self. Not so much as a physical or maybe even mental death but an image and way of life death. I must kill the part of me on the inside that is suffering and be able to move on. Its easy to say but hard to accomplish and I have been through many years where I have had to deconstruct in little ways but eventually I screw up or my current ways of life gets in the way of the life I want to live.
Despite all that I’ve gotta keep living till the last day or until I guess I decide on what course of action needs to be taken but I may never know when that day comes because it can be tomorrow or it can even be when I am of old age. All I know is this is one life. If this is the only life I have I might as well do as much good as I can before I die even if I end up dead because of circumstance pertaining to how I am living. We should all at least strive to not add on to the problem but to give back something to the world which it has given us. Having a strong sense to give back the good in life so others can se the good as well is what keeps me morally rooted and content mainly with my current suffering. But even so I can’t give enough to care about myself which is hard for those in my life who tell me to lean on them for help. I feel morally wrong and sick whenever I have to rely on my parents for anything even if they are okay with it. It kills me and makes me sick of my life in those instances. I don’t have a clear plan for things on what to do and how to even get started in life and always ask questions about how to do this or that even as an adult which leaves me feeling like I have a lack of clear comprehension. I am not stupid but I lack a lot of necessary common sense that I have been plagued with since I was younger and that gets me into a lot of social issues which caused turmoil in life because I feel so disconnected from my friends and peers. I can’t understand major differences in society or read social cues at times or even read too far into some things. I am a good person though and love helping people even but many times I often get taken advantage of or even taken for granted. I always feel overly obligated though like I must or I need or have to do whatever it is or I should just die. Even whenever I stray from being treated like that I often feel worse than if I just blindly did whatever someone told me to do despite knowing it is not goof really too. Its hard for me to discern whether I am being verbally abused/ manipulated or not either but I clearly understand physical abuse. My only options are to talk these things out with people in my life and get a constant feedback of what I should do or not almost like a robot at times. I used to be able to leave and do things on my own even but now I just don’t want to do anything anymore for the most irrational of feelings/ aversions. I never had a natural aversion to living life fully in my past but after experiencing being at the bottom for my self personally I felt the power to be able to even function leave me.
My hope for anyone reading this is that you try and find happiness even if you are suffering right now or feel extremely depressed or suicidal even. It sounds impossible but there is a balance with all this and if you can’t find it start by being a good person. It sounds like fluff talk but everyone should hear it and that is to be a good person for yourself and to others who really deserve it. Don’t fall unto a destructive path where you begin to neglect your health because you are too overly concerned for others though. Don’t internalize others suffering because it is theirs and theirs alone to feel. It is uniquely saddening for everyone and distressing to have to read of someones suffering but there is hope in the suffering. Reading some posts helps me a whole lot to process the raw emotions and feelings of grief. It helps you know that even through we all may suffer from different reasons whatever it is we are feeling is real and its not a one off thing.
Suicide statistics are scary. When you begin to think about it all you begin to tell yourself, “I don’t want to become another statistic.” This world is a sick world and humanity can’t seem to help itself with these complex issues. When there is no one to blame really people will begin to look at those who’d say they want to die and stigmatize them further. Society is often harsh like that and I honestly think humanity doesn’t have a capacity to understand these issues fully and give it the attention it needs without exacerbating the issue and acting like they tried all the could to prevent a person from suicide. We lock people up who have issues like that and we try to correct those thoughts by heavily medicating them and that’s really the best we can do… Its a sick world we live in and the only hope I can salvage from such a world is that maybe something comes and totally destroys the current world. Until 2020 I was praying/hoping that humanity would get some sort of wake up call and maybe things would change for better. Oh boy was I praying/hoping for the wrong thing(lol). Not only did this pandemic happen but many of us also lost loved ones and those close to us. It was awful not since going through total rock bottom had I ever felt closer to it and it hit for me during lock down. I hoped I could have gotten sick too from it sadly. But I didn’t and am fully vaccinated and can feel the 5G coursing through me(lol). I know its not much but it honestly helps to have a sense of humor in all of the suffering even when you get to the point of pulling your hair out. It helps to breath and understand that this life really is only temporary and if you are going to have to live it you might as well live by your own terms and not by other peoples standards. I am already an adult and I still struggle with this and it causes me to feel like I am not fully living my own life.
I’d like to honestly live a good life and live with real purpose. At least its what I tell myself as a bargain to keep alive mainly. And if it wasn’t truly worth it I would have took the chances I had as a child to leave this world. There were close calls where my air-headed actions had almost got me killed but because I had people in my life who were vigilant and who cared, they could easily stop me from doing anything stupid. I may have been suicide prone without really knowing too but as I became older I became more afraid of death and as I sought to reconcile with those thoughts early I did research and found that there isn’t really any valid proof asides people saying they died and were revived and saw things. I take it with a grain of salt really. But I grew to have my own beliefs about what dying means and what death is and where we go if there is a something or nothing even. I came to the belief that when you die you return to a state of formlessness like imagination waiting to be grabbed at. When dead, if you’d really call it having a soul or spirit, whatever it is that is making the living process goes to become apart of something unforeseen in our world and it is a mass of all of those who have died and passed on. For whatever reason the life that leaves us congregates there to this mass of others like itself and awaits maybe to be reused again inside a vessel. But in this process the life force is being purged/null out of the suffering/damage that had occurred from the body carrying the life force while it was actively living. This crazy belief has brought me to the conclusion that there isn’t much after death really and that which drives us while alive can’t really make sense of everything without a brain to use. When it is formless or simply put just life force it is like all basic forms of things but probably even more so on a more astounding and undiscovered basic level of measurement. That could mean that all life no matter how small has this life force and is pretty much the same as even humans at the most basic level. Maybe its something yet to be discovered in Life Sciences who knows. I know that at the most basic levels we are made up of matter, atoms which chain molecules which make up our bodies DNA and leads to a structuralization of complex systems throughout our body made up of tissues and organs. All I know is that being alive is very weird. It feels strangely wrong at times. I feel like there is more to be apart of after death that something inside me knows but I also have a feeling that when I die that this bodies ability to be able to comprehend anything, even its own inevitable death, will cease to make understanding of where the life force will be after death. This is just a material world really but there is probably more than meets the eye and for all we know there is a whole study that will have to be developed just for something that is so intangible.
Back when I was in high school this major epiphany had hit me. I had a moment where something had hit me like an idea that struck like lightning and that’s that we are all made of this all encompassing energy or at the most pure state of our existences we are all beings of pure energy. It can easily be influenced by this body and living life and there is some corruption factorized into it because of what it goes through. I had the idea that maybe all these religions which talked about supernatural existences where all real in a sense if you where to make the case scientifically that whatever it is exists because it is pure energy it would completely go unnoticed because we can’t perceive its phantom existence even if we can go ahead and say that energy is coursing all around us in this universe. We can’t really call the Earth as being something which is alive either or the other planets in this solar system or even the Sun as being alive and yet they are full of energy. Einstein made the major correlation that there is a mass energy equivalence and yet we can’t completely understand why we exist the way we do. If matter can exist as a particle and wave all at once can’t that just mean that we exist in some form as an embodiment of waves too all while being made up of these particles. When we die and the particles can’t make use of the energy anymore wouldn’t our waves separate from the mass that can’t contain itself anymore. And where does it go if it never disappears? I believe that it then becomes apart of something else we just can’t see or explain really yet and that it is here throughout the universe. The only thing is whether we still retain the sense of self we are familiar with or whether we just simply exist in such a state as to be asleep in a sense. The energy can exist without vessel so to say but needs one in order to comprehend being alive in the biological sense.
Life can be hard and cause you to succumb to such madness as making sense out of everything and trying to even relate to death. At most we should try and perceive life’s mysteries as best as we can to better relay how we need to live our lives. Even if all seems meaningless there is a greater meaning to all in this universe so if you ever get to that point where you question your own life try to make sense of what life really is. I know it sounds like rambling but it really does help you if you look at this biological process as more than just suffering because its a chance to be able to live in a physical sense.
So i just found this website today. I think its message is kind of… amazing. It’s sad to see all those people around here, struggling so hard just to stay alive, but… I believe in everyone.
You made it here.
You are able to keep going.
I’m here to share my story. Actually, I’m pretty good for now. Really. It’s just that I’ve been through some stuff happening in my mind and well, I don’t know when I will get worse again. That’s what always happened since a few years. It got worse, then better for a few days, maybe weeks or months, and then things get bad again. Kinda weird, yeah, I know.
I decided to share my own experiences to help others. To show everybody that they’re not alone. There’s always a way out. I found mine again.
So everybody else can do it, too. If I could manage it, everyone can. For sure.
I don’t know how to fully explain this feeling.I’m certain that I’m going to die soon. Actually I’ve been taking antidepressants on and off (SSRI) and I would take 5 mg for days then switch to ten, then not take it for some days really depending on my moods. Honestly, I got very paranoid I felt like taking them would change me completely and make me an idiot for the rest of my life. I also had some very troubling thoughts about burning myself it was almost as if I was obsessing over the idea of doing it . I wanted to burn myself to death so bad. I just stopped taking them abruptly. It’s been three months that I haven’t seen my psychiatrist and now I’m obssessing about my death.Btw I’m diagnosed with severe depression.I can’t stop thinking that I’m going to die soon, I’m not as depressed as I was before it just feels like I’m not living in reality idk it’s just a very weird feeling I feel like I’m dreaming and I’m always distracted I can’t concentrate on anything. This is so weird it’s scaring me. At times I feel like someone’s watching me or I can’t look at myself on the mirror because I feel like I’m looking at the devil.It’s very hard to explain, I feel like there is someone in me trying to hurt me, someone whispering to me that I should burn or die. And I get so overwhelmed by that voice that I find myself very close to doing what is being said to me then in a blink of an eye I feel like I’m back to reality and everything feels like it was a dream. Once I got guided to the rooftop and I was standing at the edge about to jump, it almost felt like I was mesmerized. Other times I burn myself pretty badly ( third degree burns) it makes me laugh hysterically.I feel ecstatic. My response to pain is very abnormal especially to being burned. Please give me some advice idk what the hell is happening
I dont know how I feel, it´s not that I want to die I just want to disppear without hurting anyone. The thing is, you can just get help, but i feel that I don´t have any reason to be sad and I dont want to talk to a psycologist when some people have real problems, my life is good so why do I feel this way. I just can´t take it anymore, I want to leave this world and my mind, i want to finally relax.
So, fun fact, psychiatrist waiting times are terrible where I live. The average time is usually 3-4 months. Covid probably isn’t helping. Still, I guess patience is an important virtue, so I will wait. I can wait.
It seems like my whole life is just waiting sometimes. Waiting around for the next big thing to happen- the next high or low, the next event, the next milestone, et cetera. Maybe that’s not a bad thing. It’d be tiring if every day was something new or exciting. I dunno, honestly. Life is weird.
I suspect I’m bipolar. Rapid-cycling type II, to be specific. I’m not sure, obviously (I don’t believe in self-diagnosis) but it makes sense. It’s something to hold onto, at least. If I can just wait a little longer, I can talk to a doctor, I can get meds, I can finally feel better. Sometimes the goal isn’t as grand. Sometimes, I think: if I can just wait a few more days, I’ll reach the next high and I’ll feel amazing again, even if it’s only for a week.
I’m on a “high” again. I guess it would be called hypomania, but I’m reluctant to use official terms like that. I feel like I don’t deserve to use those words, like they’re masks I’ve somehow stolen. I feel like I’m making this all up for attention. I feel like I’m faking all of these emotions because I want to feel special. But, then again, being suicidal isn’t exactly fun. It’s not something I want to boast about.
But I’m getting off topic. I feel super duper happy again. I sing a lot when I get like this. It’s not even good singing. I talk a lot, too. Sometimes I find myself pacing because I have so much energy and I need to get it out somehow. That’s how I know I’m having one of these episodes again. I always have a lot of energy. It’s like drinking too much coffee.
I feel hopeful. I feel like I’ll make my way out of this. One day. If I can just wait, it’ll all be over.
Does this make any sense? I have no idea. Sometimes I write really weird sentences, ones that go on forever and ever, like a bad surrealist painting. Editing can be a nightmare.
But, yeah, I’m waiting. That’s all for now.
I’ve fought so hard for this. My whole life, I’ve never been able to feel positive emotions . I can remember some memories from when I truly felt joy, when I used to hang out with some friends but nothing more than that. I’ve spent hours days trying to dig up some happy memories but nothing. I’m nothing more than an abused child, nothing more than my past. I wanna be able to feel something, anything. All I can think about nonstop is how to hurt myself. I’ve thought about burning myself to death, cutting a finger, breaking a leg. Some very violent ideas are living in my mind. Anger is all I have. When I hurt myself I feel so much better, not just better I feel ecstatic. I start laughing hysterically. I’ve tried using hunger to stop these thoughts, I’d drink and eat nothing for a day or two , it worked for a while but not anymore. I often get these intrusive thoughts where I kill my abuser, a family member, or my cat. It feels so real. I know I wouldn’t hurt anyone, I couldn’t. The most I do is scream at my mother and then apologize right after. I’ve been thinking about telling someone else to break my leg or jumping from the rooftop. I wonder how I would feel when greater pain is inflicted on me. The most ecstatic I’ve felt is when I’ve burned myself. Left some very naughty scars on my arm, now I can’t wear t-shirts even tho it’s fucking hot out here. Doesn’t matter, I just wonder how it’d feel to have my whole body burned. I get goosebumps just by thinking about it. I don’t know what is wrong with me, but this isn’t normal is it ? I’ve been diagnosed with severe depression and I’ve been taking antidepressants on and off. I started taking them again today tho. I can’t concentrate on my studies, and I have less than a month left for my finals. Everything is on the stake. If I get a bad grade, I’ll probably just kill myself. Somebody please give me some advice, I’d do anything.
This Sunday, it will be one whole month since the day that I thought would be my last. I got prescribed a drug by my therapist this Monday. Olanzapine, I’m supposed to take it every night. It feels weird. I thought that taking medicine would make me feel even worse but now I don’t really care, I just swallow the pill.
If anything, I miss having a normal life. I miss being able to call someone and have fun whenever I wanted to. I miss studying. I miss having something to do, and people to care about. I know my limits, though… I won’t try to push them. For some reason my family seems to care a lot more about me than I care about me. I don’t even want their help. I’m going to be seeing a therapist every week from now on. Not the one I’ve seen before, he’s too expensive apparently. I hope it works out. I’m tired of myself. I’m either doing things because I have to, or someone told me to. I don’t have any interests, but it feels weird that I can’t control myself. It’s just like watching a movie. Talking makes me happy. But I don’t like talking very much. I don’t like having to go through all this, but I’ve already decided I won’t kill myself. It’s been almost a whole month since I made that decision. This website helped me realize that. I guess I should say I’m grateful, but I’m not.
Hey my friends ! I really wanna know how everybody’s doing. What’s something that made you laugh this past week? Did you run into an old acquaintance? How is life right now ?
I think i might suffer from ptsd And my relationship with my father is pretty bad. We’ve never been really close especially after some events that happened in my childhood. Long story short, verbal and physical abuse. He even used to beat my cat. At best, he would totally ignore my existence, greeting everyone on the table except me, at worst call me a dog in front of guests, whispering that i was digusting. I was pretty badly beaten by my sibling n he n my mum would make me apologize everytime that happened. It was pretty rough man. Sometimes i wonder how i made It out alive. I’m pretty weak personality and emotions wise. I’ve learned how to be obedient so now we just act like nothing happened. I laugh when he makes jokes, greet him with a smile, listen to his crap. Overall, I’m just really afraid of him. Whenever we’re alone, I feel my heart tightening up n time moves slowly. I just can’t take it anymore. I feel like a waken person living with zombies. They act as if nothing happened n I have to fucking play along. Today, my dad called me couldn’t stop fucking talking about what he did today then he started lecturing me about communication skills and how I should be forgiving. Man, something inside me just cracked. Some pretty violent ideas came through my mind, I fucking hate him, I hate this, everything. I fucking wanna die. He destroyed every little piece of self esteem I’ve tried building these days. Now back to point 0. God help me, idk what to do anymore. I have some very important exams coming up, and I’m so behind. I wanna get out of here, I wanna go home, i wanna feel warmth n love. Being severely depressed doesn’t help. There’s just nothing in me. Please I need advice, somebody help me out I beg you.
I’m really losing my mind and i don’t know what to do. i just can’t get used to this feeling, the sadness, the hopelessness. I feel nothing. The only two emotions that exist in my mind are anger and sadness. I don’t wanna die but Im extremely tired. My psychiatrist prescribed antidepressants , but i don’t know i’ve read so many bad things abt them. I’m afraid that they would change me or make me « dumber ». If someone has already tried em, please help me out.
The onky thing I have that confirms that I’m still alive is physical pain. Honestly… didn’t I already die? Why can I still move
Everyone just laughs at me. Any attempt I make at anything is just laughable. Why should I even try? I’m tired of trying. I’ll never be enough. Not for me. Not for anyone else.
My mother tells me I need to help her out more. I can’t even get out of bed and she expects me to take out the trash and walk the dog. I think my mother hates me. I think everyone hates me. The only person that I’ve ever met that didn’t hate me for who I was was my girlfriend. And I managed to make her hate me too.
What’s the point? Really, sometimes I wish I would stop feeling pain. If I don’t feel any pain. Then… Then I can disconnect completely. I can just become. Not dead, but not alive either. Completely detached from everything. No memories. No feelings. No pain. No guilt. No happiness. No sadness. No nothing. I think the only thing I would feel would be panic and fear. But that’s fine. I feel that anyway.
It’s weird how, sometimes the most terrifying thing I can imagine is getting stuck inside my own head. Trapped, without a way out. And other times, it’s the most pleasant thing that I can imagine. I don’t really enjoy a lot of things anymore, and most of the time, I’m just mad. Or bored. Either that, or I have absolutely no idea what I’m feeling because there’s too much going on inside my head for me to think clearly. When I wake up, and before I go to sleep, my head is a total mess. Then, throughout the day, it gets slightly better. But it’s always the worst at night. That’s why I can’t sleep. I see faces everywhere in the dark. Faces that aren’t actually there. I hear noises. Noises that don’t come from anything real. I manage to convince myself that there’s a completely reasonable explanation for those things happening… But I’m always too scared to investigate them. The faces talk to me sometimes. Well, not really talk. They never move actually. They are just staring at me. Sometimes they laugh at me. They only laugh at me when I want to die and when I hate life. They touch me sometimes too. Usually on my feet or legs. Very rarely on my arms. Never on my face. Sometimes they choke me. Or squeeze my chest. So that my heart beats really fast. I don’t panic from that. It takes a lot to make me panic. I’ve always been taught that when you’re in a scary situation, the last thing you want to do is panic. It’s hard to make myself not panic, but I have some techniques to make myself not panic. Actually. It’s just telling myself that it’s going to be over soon and whatever is happening to me at the moment won’t last forever. I think my life actually will get better. Not now. Not anywhere close to now. Not anywhere in the near future. Maybe in ten years. In ten years I think I will be fine. I think that in ten years, I will remember all of this… Or maybe I won’t remember it at all. I won’t feel happy or sad when I think about it. Maybe some regret. Or maybe I won’t feel any regret. Maybe I will just have accepted at that point that… I can’t change the past. The only thing I can do is keep my head up and oh my god who am I kidding. I sound like some fucking bullshit motivational speaker. I don’t know. I just hope that it will get better. I know that it will only get worse… I am not even close to the bottom. I’ve barely even scratched the surface. I know that it’s going to get worse. It’s going to get worse, and worse, and worse, until it can’t get any worse. And when I come back above the surface, my personality will be completely different. I will be completely unrecognizable to the people that knew me before my depression hit. Or actually. I’m not sure if depression ever “hit” me. I’m actually not even sure if depression is the right word. I mean, I’m not sure what depression even means. I don’t think I’ve ever “felt depressed”. I just hate myself, feel pain all over my body, and I want to die. I don’t think that’s what depression is. Isn’t depression supposed to be a sad feeling? I very rarely feel sad. I do feel a bit tired though. But well. I’m not entirely sure where I was going with this. To me, depression feels like a set path. Something that resulted from a lot of pain accumulating and not being dealt with. It feels like depression is just a placeholder for what should actually be there. I don’t know what should actually be there. But depression, depression to me, I depression is like a current. Like a current in an ocean. A deepwater current, pulling you further and further out. Hard to escape from, and never something that you want. Just something that you stumble on by accident, and you didn’t even realize you had until you see how far you are from the shore. Some people get rescued, some people are too far out to be saved, some people never really learned how to swim. And sometimes… very rarely, but sometimes… that current takes you somewhere completely different. Like how the maori people used to navigate using the currents of the ocean to navigate it. I feel like depression is something that I HAVE to go through, and something that I can’t escape from. There is no easy way out. It would be great if there were. But there’s no cure to being broken. Just like there is no “cure” for a broken car or computer. It takes time to fix, and some parts need to be replaced often.
I manage to somehow stray extremely far off the original topic in almost every post I make lol. That’s weird. This was supposed to be about disassociating. Well, anyway. I want to end this on a positive note because all my previous posts have been negative and I feel like this one is slightly more uplifting. I hope that most of us are going to make it. 🙂
It had been a Time since I wrote here. The Last Year been really challenging, I had the need in Emergency Ketamine due Suicidality, Sucidal Thoughts.
I got it not quite Legal and I am over it.
I recover from an Viral Infection, from an Encelopathy, from an Psychosis as an Post-Amnestic Syndrom, Polytoxicomania. Not quite little.
But, I am still not feeling like having any Integrity. And I can not make up my Mind. I have no clue where this is going to Lead, but I convinced myself to go a bit astray this Year and rechoice the next Year about Legal Dying Assistance as Legislation must release the Law for it in 2022.
To The Person That I Mirrored Myself
Despite the fact that I am fully aware of what is going on in your life, your inspirational and motivational messages captivated me. I admire your ways of dealing with life because I don’t. Four years ago, I was in your shoes. I am a goal-oriented person who is concerned with the future and success. I was a “church girl” who read scriptures always and prayed three times a day, till I had all I had today; I speak of it all as PTSD anxiety about panic depression attacks. I’ve become forgetful, so perhaps you’re worth telling my story for.
I’m having a hard time concentrating on anything. I’m rereading messages five times to make sure I understand what they’re about. If you ask me if I saw something, I might have been looking right at it and missed it. Half of the time, I have no idea what the topic of a conversation is. Something is wrong, and I can’t seem to control myself. I’m just going through the motions of my life, and anything that requires my presence is a struggle for some reason.
Senior High School. Being a Senior High Schooler was exciting, especially as a newcomer. They’re all looking at you because they’ve finally seen a different girl, literally different. I got good grades in my previous high school, so I don’t mind when people try to rely on me because I’m used to it.
House. At home, I’m dealing with a situation I never wanted to be in. I finally saw my father for the first time. But the consequences are that I don’t have to see my mother, that I must obey them because this is their home, that I must obey my stepmother, and that I must be nice to my stepsiblings who have attitude issues. And, as a fighter and a strong person (as far as I know), I accepted the challenge and promised my real mother that I’d take easy on these.
Myself. Because I am different from everyone else in school, I decided to handle everything on my own, especially when my classmates began to bully me because other sections wanted to meet and be friends with me. I ate alone, I went home alone, I studied alone, and I sat alone. Constantly hearing insults and negative thoughts about me, as well as how my presence irritated them. Every time I take the stage, they laugh and ask why I’m so sure of myself when I don’t have anything like theirs.
First love. I have always enjoyed joining organizations, writing school newspapers, and participating in talent shows those times, which is why I am well-known throughout the school. It’s no surprise that I caught the attention of the school’s varsity three-point shooter, with whom I quickly fell in love despite the fact that we could be far more different. He ignores the rules, whereas I do not.
Consequences of my actions. After months of being bullied at school, I finally ignored them because I had my pill – my boyfriend. I kept this from my acting parents (I mean they’re trying to be a parent) because they might not send me to school if they found out. I forget about the problems that have been making me weak for months as long as I have my boyfriend. But, as they said, every happiness comes with a price. They recently discovered everything about me and my boyfriend, which made me angry because they are attempting to steal my happiness AGAIN, but that time, I want them to fail. They have forbidden me from attending my organizations, so I am forced to leave. Leave anything that might raise their suspicions because they are afraid of wasting money on me for nothing. I didn’t tell anyone why I needed to leave all of the organizations just to get home at 5 p.m. I just ignored them and got used to going to classes and coming home to do chores and homework. To add to that, my father wasn’t always at home, so I was always at their house doing my stepmother’s job. I cooked, washed dishes, and assisted her in washing their clothes when all she did was put her clothes in the washing machine every time it stopped spinning. I tutor her child, clean the bathrooms, their room, the rooftop with dogs and poops, feed the dogs, clean the rooftop, and look after their plants before I can do what I need to do and forget what I want to do. Not long ago, my father used to scold me every time he came home for reasons I still don’t understand. I’m wondering if it’s because I have a boyfriend. Is that it? I can take insults, but insulting my mother with someone who barely knows us is a distraction. I easily become enraged whenever they bring up my mother because of my mistakes. I once fought with them and yelled at them just as much as they yelled at me. After that, I fainted, and they took me to the hospital, but they don’t care; they’re more concerned with the costs of my check-ups, despite the fact that I know they’re not poor and that a single penny for my health won’t cost them much. Before we met, I had Bell’s Palsy and had to take numerous medications and treatments that caused me to gain weight. After quarrels with my acting parents, I learned to adapt with their environment, I learned to fake everything because it makes everything alright. I pretend to have changed and come to like them as they desired. But, despite of learning to shut up to insults, they continued to be mean to me, so I shrugged it off and focused on what made me happy. Because I had nothing to worry about with my academics, I had to divert my attention away from my personal issues by taking absences and skipping classes. At least once a week, my boyfriend and I try to sneak out of school and go somewhere.
To cut a long story short, I was caught numerous times and they have to be stricter. I had to spend less time with my boyfriend because my rank had dropped and I was on the verge of falling out of the top ten. But one day, I went home because my mother called and said she would be there to pack my belongings and take me with her. Of course I want it, but I must accept the consequences once more. I’m not sure what happened that day, but my mother was crying, and all I did was follow her and sent me back to Laguna before my father caught up with us. I’m not sure what path I took that day, but I missed my mom and didn’t want us to be separated again. After a week, I persuaded her to rent me an apartment near my school so that I could finish the semester and then transfer to another school with her. My father and stepmother recently found out where I’ve been thanks to my “friends”. I had no idea it was another trap set by my stepmother at the time. She must be struggling with the responsibilities of a wife in the absence of me.
My father and mother talked about it, and I agreed to whatever they agreed on. After that, I don’t want to hurt my mother any further. She got a job as a maid, which made me happy because she was the only motivation I had at the time to be more patient with my father and his wife. Arguments in the house never ended because of my step mother’s personal reasons (I don’t know about her), but I learned to ignore everything, and I’ve become immune to her shouting and shouting from my dad through the phone every time I’m on the jeepney on my way home. SOMETIMES, it would be better if I didn’t come home, but I didn’t. That day, I learned how to smoke, as if I needed it… Even though I hate the smell, it relieves me.
I never stopped skipping classes with my boyfriend until it became too much for me. I am a virgin, and I never imagined that I would eventually do it with him, from going out into places like parks and computer shops to going out into places like motels and free spaces. Once a week, that’s how we spent our time together, and we always did it safely; we were both innocent about it, so we explored until I became paranoid because the contraceptive broke before he was released. We stopped doing it until my period came.
When I got home, I was surprised to see that my stepmother had brought me cake and had prepared pancit for me. I thought she realized that battles should be settled in their home with me. But rather, she persuaded me to talk about my boyfriend, claiming that as a mother, she should know him in order to understand me and offered that the house is always open whenever we want to spend our time together. I’m grateful for the offer, and I followed through on her suggestions. I don’t skip classes anymore, she’s nice to my boyfriend even though my father didn’t know, I thought she was covering for me and as a mom (a parent), she understands teenagers fall in love but that’s what I thought until she called my father to come home and set her trap. She left me at their house and let my father caught us. He caught us, watching movie at the sofa that made him very very angry.
I kept quiet; I never told my father she allowed me to do it because I knew it was my fault for believing in her. I took it all and paid for my mistakes because I wanted to compete in the pageant and represent our section. I persuaded my father to back me up, and he did. My most recent contest was a huge distraction for me. They were not pleased that I had placed second runner-up. I also dropped my rank, which made them even more disappointed.
My mother informed me that she was no longer working and that she had returned home from her parents to marry her new husband. I was both happy and sad, knowing that they all had their lives and that I was stuck in the situation they had put me in with my mean stepmother. I never told my mother that she shouldn’t get another husband and should instead wait until I graduated college and we could be together again. I listened to her; she said it was difficult for her to be alone with no one to talk to; she also needed her happiness, so I let her. So all I have is my boyfriend, whom I recently discovered to be cheating on me with her other FB account. Because summer is approaching, and it is inconvenient for us to have problems and fix them while we are away.
Everything was fine not until I received a creepy texts and threatened messages from an anonymous sender, slut shaming and all. Dummy accounts have been created to harass me online and spread rumors among my classmates, teachers, and even the principal. That person knows me well, he knows my history, and after a few days, my Facebook account was hacked. Threatened me that I should not go home alone because I might get hurt; he also screen captured conversations from my account and spread them to all of my friends who reacted to my posts. That made me suspicious to everyone, and I became paranoid, experiencing sleep paralysis every other night. I overeat and have attempted suicide several times.
Despite being told to come to my school to discuss the matter, I never spoke with my parents about it. I never did because they are the prime suspect. The anonymous sender told me that it started when I was in grade 11, and that he was really annoyed with me and wanted me to disappear, and that I didn’t deserve to be the second runner-up. Since then, I’ve had low self-esteem, and whenever I have free time, I go to the clinic and pretend to be sick in order to fall asleep. I slept more at school and don’t sleep at home, especially when I have to avoid everyone because my peers talked so quietly about me that I could hear them.
I finally graduated from high school, and the possibility of attending college stresses me out. My parents do not want to spend money on me, by which I mean my tuition fee. They wanted to enroll me in a university where tuition is free or low-cost; otherwise, I would not attend college. So PUP was the only university for which I had exams. I passed, but the list’s release date was very late, which made me worry too much and made me depressed, especially when they started calling me Bobo and stuff because my name was not on the first list that was released.
I was relieved to learn that I had passed the entrance exam. It provides me with opportunities, despite the fact that the remaining courses are not what I am looking for. I took it because I had no other option, but even though I passed the exam, my father expects me to get the higher courses without them spending money on me. On the other hand, they still have the option of getting what they want. My boyfriend and I stopped working out months ago. He ignored me as if nothing had happened. I recently learned that he spends his nights with some girls and bottles and that I am not required to do anything about it. I tried to chase him, but he pushed me even further over the edge.
I’m getting better, but it’s my ex-boyfriend who keeps me going. I used Tinder to hook up with a lot of men and play with them. I did the same thing my ex did to me: I ghosted everyone. I have my FUBU, and we see each other whenever I have some free time. That’s how I spent my freshman year of college. It gets worse when I discover something is wrong with my father and my stepmother’s daughter. I nearly puked when I found out, but I’m at a loss for what to do about it. And just as things were getting better, the anonymous ***** sender messaged again. Again, he has screen shoted all of my conversations with the men with whom I am conversing. He informs them that made me delete my Facebook account and create a new one. And a week ago, the anonymous ***** messaged my cellphone number again, this time with a picture link to my most recent address and a creepy face that was googled and got from scrbd site. That has been my life since 2016, and before that I had a different life. My uncle sexually harassed me, so we went to another location, which is now my home. I’ve also been pointed with a gun in the past. My life sucks, and I’m not sure where it’s going.
i spoke to my therapist today. i read to her my recent journals to help me evoke emotions so i could actually talk about something. i spoke about how bad the nightmares have been getting, how the paranoia is affecting me, et cetera… and i don’t quite remember how, but we ended up on the topic of the recent violently abusive situation i was in (in august). there was something there that i hadn’t unearthed before? the anger towards my parents. allow me to provide some context: in the situation i was in, i was being blackmailed. my abuser was forcing me to do horrible things to myself so that my family wouldn’t be in danger. he was threatening to hurt my family. that’s why i submitted. i did everything in my power to ensure they would stay out of the situation, to ensure they would be safe and be left untouched. and what do i get in return? not sympathy, not a “it’s not your fault”, no. none of that. what i got in return for my self sacrifice was blame and anger and self-loathing. “you put US in danger” “you should have told US” “you’re making ME feel in danger” “you’re making ME so upset” ME, ME, ME, ME, ME! because this is about you, right? this is about YOUR feelings, isn’t it? no, no, not my feelings. not the feelings of me, the person who was the victim in this situation. not the feelings of the person who was willing to do anything to protect you, no. i let myself be the fucking sacrificial lamb in order to keep this horrible, violent man from seeing to it that they would be hurt.
“why didn’t you tell us”
BECAUSE WHEN YOU FIND OUT, THIS IS WHAT YOU DO.
WHEN YOU FIND OUT, I’M TO BLAME.
WHEN YOU FIND OUT, I’M AT FAULT.
not the abuser, oh, no. this has nothing to do with the person who committed the crime, right? it’s MY fault. it’s MY fault for being manipulated. it’s MY FAULT for being blackmailed. HE BLACKMAILED ME WITH INFORMATION THAT I NEVER PROVIDED TO HIM. HE FOUND ME ON HIS OWN.
this is why i don’t tell you things.