I have a pretty good life, especially compared to most people. My dad’s rich. My mum’s poor. so i guess i’m somewhere in the inbetween. i get okay grades, and i have friends. my biggest complaints are well-deserved depression, shitty anxiety, and a semi-physical, but mostly verbally abusive stepmom. They think I’m a goody two shoes. I kinda am? but honestly, i wish someone would fucking notice when i just walk outside at night in the middle of a conversation and stay walking for long periods of time, or set fires in sewers, or do drugs cause hey free drugs are free. it just. nobody gives a shit anymore. i dont think they even know.
I’m the voice in your head as you read this. That’s how reading works. Everyone does it. Is it a female voice, a male voice? Maybe it’s a voice that’s altogether different! Perhaps you’ve even given me an accent or a lisp to make me sound funny. Whatever the case may be, your mind created it. What else do you think your mind’s been creating lately? Is it really your mind, or is it you?
Anyway, if you decide to have a Snack today then enjoy it! It’s the small things that make you smile.
Does anyone here spend most of the time indoors and only going out when necessary? It’s been weeks since I’ve gotten out of the house and I’m losing my mind already. I haven’t had social contact aside from my girlfriend and sad thing is we only see each other hours at best because she has classes to attend to. My routine consists of moping in bed, waking up, doing nothing and then seeing my girlfriend every time her classes are up which is in the wee hours of the afternoon. My life is trash and honestly, it wouldn’t make a difference if I died today. I wouldn’t even be surprised if no one came to my funeral.
It also doesn’t help I don’t have a job so I really have nothing to do in my house aside from either staring in front of my computer screen or just laying in bed. This is my daily routine and it’s more than 8 hours a day. Imagine doing this for every single day of your existence of doing nothing but just staring in front of the computer, sitting around and moping in bed. I’m already in my 30s and I can’t imagine doing the same thing over and over again for 30 more years. I’d rather die than go through this for another 30 years of my miserable existence. It’s either I off myself or go to a monastery and spend all my remaining days there for the rest of my life. I’m already a shut-in anyway so why not shut myself out in the real world? At least I will have something to do in a monastery rather than doing nothing inside the house but mope around and be a leper all day.
I’ve really lost it all. I lost my friends, I lost my job, family doesn’t give a damn about me and all I have are my negative feelings and thoughts which bother my mind. I’ve got no one to talk to about my problems aside from my girlfriend. Even then, I don’t want to burden her too much with my problems. Seems everything I touch goes down the drain. Now all I have are feelings of despair, hopelessness and helplessness that I’m starting to have suicidal ideations. Anyone in the same boat? How do you guys cope up in such a hell and nightmare? I want to go outside and socialize, I really do but I have no one to turn to in my state. I have no social support and help in my situation aside from the woman in my life who still hasn’t abandoned me after all this time. It’s a miracle she’s still with me after all the failures I’ve been through. To have someone who deeply cares no matter where you are now is a miracle in this day and age, but even then I don’t know how this will last.
I am torn between getting help and killing myself.
I don’t hate myself nor do I think that I don’t deserve to live. And I love my friends, with whom I shared many beautiful moments. When I think about leaving them behind I feel infinitely sorry, because I know they wont be better off without me. They will be hurt and left with so many questions that I cannot answer in one last letter.
But my problem is that I cannot help but wonder why I should stay alive in this world for another 60 years. Having to work for 40 years for someone else’s profit, having to watch how more and more of nature is being destroyed, being unable to do something about millions of people being starved out of nationalist interest. Factory farming, bile bears, poaching, foie gras, slavery, you name it… The list could probably be extended infinitely.
I’m disgusted and people keep telling me I have to accept the world like it is, but I don’t want to. I know nothing changes if I’m not around anymore, yet at least I don’t have to suffer through it.
Every time I imagine my future all of these thoughts keep coming back and I’m left with this bland taste, losing interest in everything. What does it matter? Why should I study, why should I work? Just to keep living in a world I don’t really want to be part of?
Seems like bad fucking deal.
I think the internet is causing a lot of problems for me. I have a habit of looking up answers to impossible questions, such as what’s wrong with me, why was I born, what’s the point of going on another day? And I always get the same answers. Life if a gift. Don’t waste it. But I have to wonder if it really is. Maybe it is for some people, but not for me. It’s like when you get something for Christmas from your grandma that you really didn’t want. And you’d feel really guilty about throwing it away because they obviously took the time to choose it out for you. But at the same time, you just end up leaving it on a shelf somewhere, and every now and again you look up at it and wonder “why do I have this?” That’s the basic gist about how I feel. So when people say life is a gift and we should treasure it, I’m just thinking “Well yeah, but I never asked for it.” It’s not my fault I was given something I didn’t want in the first place. Why couldn’t I have signed a damn waiver? Like, before I was born, it’d be nice if God just sat me down and told me “This is all the shit you’re going to put up with in your life. You in?” I think I’d probably say no. And go back to not existing or floating in limbo or whatever.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad these random internet people care enough to try and talk me down from these ledges (even if I don’t think they’re trying to hard to see it from my perspective), but a lot of time their advice just makes me feel at best confused, and at worst extremely guilty. They range from things like get right with God (Honesty, I don’t feel comfortable with asking him for anything these days. Kinda feels like I’m taking out a loan I don’t intend to pay back.), get busy and do something productive (I’ve now got a full schedule in college and I’m the busiest I’ve ever been. Honestly, this might have made my moods worse.), to simply “stop thinking about it so much.” (Because you know, that’s my problem.) Of course, I realize these things probably worked for someone, or else why would they post them, but I’m not entirely sure anymore if there is a “one size fits all” solution. One of the things I’ve learned about having Asperger’s is that we think about things differently, and different things have different meanings to me than with other people, and maybe not everyone else’s experience is the same as yours. So when people tell me what worked for them to pull them out of depression, I feel happy for them but that doesn’t mean I’m going find the same catharsis from their methods.
Of course, as interesting as that hypothesis is, it doesn’t necessarily do me any favors. But I’m going to try to force myself not to look up depressing shit like “who cares if I kill myself” or “what’s the point in living”. Because I’ve heard it all before. And maybe I should stop spending so much time on the internet too. I guess all in all, it’s just a matter of trial and error here.
Thinking about dying has become surprisingly commonplace. I know it is a rather common subject of jokes nowadays as well. Sometimes it’s confusing. It’s hard to tell whether or not someone really wants to die or not; they might just be poking fun. Talking about disappearing and such is a quirk rather than a concern. I dunno. Maybe everyone’s jokes are ‘for real’ and everyone 30 and under does want to die; it would be rather concerning.
I recall when I was in a major depression that I acted the happiest. I was, to strangers, a pleasant person to be around. It was odd and somewhat freeing to care so little about myself; it made it a lot easier to care about what was going on with other people. Of course, I also really wanted to die so *shrug*.
I’m not going anywhere with this really. I think I’m probably a worse person now than I was before. I still want to die, but it doesn’t feel as bad. Before, it felt really gut wrenching and now it’s sort of background noise. It’s easy to ignore, but it’s persistent and it sort of sucks me into a daze.
It’s like when you’re a kid: all the sensations of the world feel harsher and sharper. Dirty words still have their shock value for a while. However, as you acclimate, it just becomes life. I don’t really know if that’s a good or bad thing. I suppose they both have their benefits. I guess that’s me and death.
Suicide and going on a surprise vacation seem to fit the same same slot in my head.
I have bad memories of someone who says, “if I had it my way I would put him in a looney bin” fuck if I had it my way if I was strong enough I would kill myself not just bored with my life not certain about this life and wish I had the strength to end it all bipolar sucks my life is worthless to me at such times but I know if I ever do kill myself if I ever do that it would destroy everything that loves me but it would good for all those who hate and or don’t like me I am that point in my life where I don’t care about what people say at such times but my existence causes pain and pleasure to myself and to others people like me shouldn’t even be alive biological father sexually assaulted my birth mother while she was twelve but the good news is I have a place of my own and been adopted in a good family but sometimes I still want to die just kill me someone.
These days I don’t feel anything. Things that I used to care about seem uninteresting.
I feel like I have been on a road to self destruction. I see myself doing things that I know will only hurt me, but I can’t bring myself to care. I can’t bring myself to care about anything anymore and that scares me.
My grades are slipping, my relationship with my parents is straining.
I know that I should try to fix everything while I still can, but I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to do anything anymore.
The thought of dying have been on my mind more than usual. I am not even afraid anymore because the thought of dying is the only thing that brings me comfort and that, ironically, scares me.
Urghhh I just want everything to make sense.
I live in a shithole. There is mold growing in the walls, window frames, and carpets. The roof has not been repaired since last spring’s ice storm, the landlord fell through my ceiling while checking into the leak and repaired the missing piece of ceiling from that particular area, but my kids are sick from mold, I can’t afford to live elsewhere (rent 6 buildings down the street is double for the same sized apartment). My kids are asthmatic and have gone through inhalers as an alarming rate.
My eldest has severe behavioural issues (stabbed his baby brother today) and he (eldest) has been removed from the household for the night.
The transmission on my vehicle blew and went to the scrapyard 2 fridays ago.. the day before my birthday to boot- just to help remind me of the million reasons I fail with every breath.
Currently, I am hearing neighbours’ bass pounding as they party with the superintendent at an obnoxious volume- superintendent doesnt live here, but shows to party with 20yr old tenants while using the parking spot I pay for while breaking volume by-laws, and the private parking by-law while handing me a migraine and sodomizing any hope for sleep in my apartment with a rusted metal pole.
I won’t even get into my medical issues…
So, when some optimistic f-ck asks why I struggle to smile, and I tell them to eat sh!t, I think it’s truly the only way I can respond nonviolently.
I feel so lost right now: one of my few close friends- a girl- made me feel…………..special. We had just gone to see a marvel movie, and we were in the car, just chatting. I had previously mentioned to her passingly in the last week or so that I thought that I was going to being moving away soon, and she had reacted in a semi-sad, but mostly just bummed out way. But I brought the subject up again in the car, because I wanted to get her opinion on the whole thing. She started tearing up and sad that she’d really miss me. I didn’t believe it at first: I had long ago convinced myself that nobody could make me feel like they actually loved me, in any kind of relationship. But she meant it; she really did. I asked her why. She said because she thought I was a wonderful person, and that she could be “herself” in a sense around me. I said that I was a horrible person, and then I also teared up. A few seconds later, I was weeping into the armrest of my car, and she was holding my head in her hands, then my hand in her warm, living fingers.
I didn’t know what else to do. I had always dreamed of being deadly honest with someone I could trust to understand about what I went through every day of my life, but when it had actually happened, it was so surreal. I almost still believe that it was a dream or hallucination; that, or that she’ll back out of meeting again, or that I messed our friendship up somehow. I’ve been praying almost constantly about it and her, and her salvation- I am a Christian and she isn’t anything-, and I just can’t decide if I did the right thing by opening up to her like that.
It felt so good: it wasn’t awkward or sexual; just her crying with me, holding me; just us sharing hurt and making each other feel better. We shared memories and told each other hard stories nobody else knew.
I had always thought that she was like everyone else that I knew: fake, shallow, and not interested in real, painful things, let alone someone like me being so messed up and all. Sometimes I saw how different she was, but I was oblivious because she still did a lot of the same social lies others did. I had no idea she cared about me that much.
In that moment, she was more real that anybody I’d ever seen. It was exactly like being a baby again and finding literally NEW things, because it was that. Her face was different, so changed by crying; it made her real. I could hear her better now; feel her more as a person.
Basically, I desperately want to keep this going, keep opening up to her, and help her as she helps me, but I don’t know if that’s the best thing to do. I don’t want to lead her on into thinking I “like” her; I might still move; and I am afraid of her rejecting or not “understanding” something about me enough. Anyone care? Is anyone here to share an opinion or give their piece of pie advice?
Feeling like I’m going insane.
And I gotta play this game.
Alone and nobody gives a damn.
She said she’s my best friend but what?
Nobody hits up my phone up.
Everybody say they have depression and they’re all alone but it’s all just a facade. Like it’s trendy now to wear it as a badge of honor. When in fact you’re charged guilty pleading your honor.
Fk why I gotta bottle
Everything up inside
Gambling with my life like a lotto.
It’s past midnight.
Dreams of waking up to a better life, resting in peace.
I have a what from an outsider’s perspective a nice life. I have a loving family, nice grades, I don’t have any mental conditions, and I have nice things. But coming into my real life you see how horrible it is. I went to a nice school and I had bunch of friends, but I changed schools and everyone, EVERYONE hates me. I’m not exaggerating either, even my teachers hate me. I’ve never gotten a detention in my life, and now I’ve gotten 2 suspensions in three weeks. Think about it, it’s not me, it’s them. I am constantly bullied in school and beaten up. I come home almost every day making excuses to make my parents think I have a nice life. I would tell them the truth, but they would never understand. The only person I could relatively call my friend would just say I’m exaggerating, or I’m lying for attention.
I’ve cut a few times, knowing its horrible, but I do it anyway. That’s on the worst days. I do it when I’m so emotionally dead that I think I deserve it. I know I don’t.
I think every day about suicide, and I know I shouldn’t.
I hate myself for wanting that.
I hate myself for existing.
I hate life.
dislocated self-awareness. declination of the past. dispersion from freedom. unpleasant emersive thoughts. respective immersive social relational trust fond. disability of detachment.
this just keeps me awake what I read. who makes funerals, I would be death inside but I want to express it privately and have trust in coping skills, and issues.
I wished it in a bad prediction for the future to die, and I relapsed from hate to love which is something strong to me. I am unable to remember this, but the development of the relapse took my commiseration which used to consume me out in view of my desire and which had me selflessly in damage to myself empowered me to emphasize with the most painless atmosphere.
And that was depression. Crying made me Free, but I’m not done enough, it was a huge loss which is gone with the hate. I’m like censoring myself as I can’t express it by any act and want to be striked by something that is close to the imagination that leaved me with my believe that the causality to love after the psychosis is better than the truth of my ridiculous expectations and to be loved back.
And I insist for the proof of my desparation with the peace in me to have suffered and to want more.
I stay in distance because for just a single time I want to disrespect my confidence. I don’t want to trust the love, I want to be with, with only the fear and want that to make me cry.
I can’t stop, I’m uninterested of being real in life without and really am not into the world all my life.
I must find another home that is corrupting the idea that the first memory is been one I trusted to, felt close to and wanted to life in. I didn’t.
Can you make out my mind? I can’t make out mine..
Why is it when you suddenly die, everyone is like oh “she was so loved” or “I’m going to miss her”. Am I the only one thinking you’ll miss throwing stuff at her and posting on the hate page you created about her. I guess once you die people just love to hear “I’m so sorry for your loss” and get attention off of your death at least that’s what they’re doing with hers.
I’m still alive. I dunno how, but I am. I exist. I am not a figment of my own imagination, as that would not make much sense.
If I said I talked to a girl today, would that seem weird? I don’t think it would. I do it all the time. There are several I know whom I really like. Never as anything more than acquaintances or friends, but that feeling may not always be mutually shared. It’s hard to tell. I’m like a cat in this arena. Give me too much attention and I’ll want nothing to do with you. It’s just how I’m wired. I’d rather go and do solitary things and decompress after spending ten minutes talking to someone. Having people follow me around while I’m trying to escape ruffles my fur the wrong way. Is it my fault if my claws come out? I don’t think my brain is wired the same as everyone else. I’m like a lykoi in a world of yap dogs. I just want a quiet box to hide in, and maybe some fish treats and fuzzy things to bat at. All the barking makes me slightly neurotic and irritable. Just ranting. Don’t mind me.
Two of my most recent posts got deleted I believe because I was linking to other websites. I know that this place is a safe space where I can vent out my frustrations without judgement, so I’m going to try again.
As I said, I don’t think I love my mother anymore. I wish I could make her see what she needs to reap when I heard that Trump is “transporting thousands of immigrant children into camp cities.” I outright said that I wanted to punch her. She chose Trump over her own autistic asexual child.
Trump turned my own people against each other as well as on me. There was a very vocal group of people within my own gender and sexual nonconformist community that were actually in favor of the other guy not being able to marry and raise children with the person of the same sex or gender that they love. Do I even need to mention that military ban?
Divide and conquer.
Now I really wish I was dead.
I can not get over it, that things will never be fair. I’m too sensitive about everything. I’m in chronic pain and Doctors could never help me. Or maybe I think I just couldn’t help myself. For 9 years I’m into this Depression and it just got worse. It started early in school, that I realized that something was not right. About me and the tiring reality to go to school everyday. Other Kids seemed so careless. I came too late everyday. It started with 5 Minutes, then 10, then 30 and sometimes I missed the first period. I think I must be a broken machine. I don’t agree on getting up to a specific time each day and work/go to school for many hours. What’s wrong with me.? I’ve tried to be more responsible but every problem crashing into me (I can’ get specific in this post, or It’ll be too long) just made that impossible. I try to shove the “probable laziness” on my aching body. But truth is: I’m in so much pain. And people that aren’t sick, can not imagine the extend of it. Others expect me to go to work, but how, if the simplest thing, to wake up and dress myself is already a drag. Am I broken to not “being able” to work.? I’ve tried a few things but at the end of the day I was so much unhappier and in higher probability to harm myself, than when I stayed at home. Society has made us believe, that we have no worth, when we can’t provide for money. Is that all we are.? Am I selfish to not being able to help my family.?
I’m in that point of life when I could no longer feel the sadness, no longer feel the pain. I could no longer feel anything. Its like I’m just numb. Just drifting into the darkness that had broken me more times that I could count. So much pain, I wished for it all to disappear. I wanted to escape, because I am too much a coward to face it. I guess I got my wish, then.
They said your family, friends, or someone in this world
There must be someone who can help you
Ive tried it..
I try to tell them but they are not there
I try to tell my friends but they got annoyed and leave me at the end
I try to tell my mom but she just said get over it
I try to tell my sister but she just said im stress too
I try to tell my dad but he said you are worthy try your best
Im trying but i never been there
What I want to be
What I want to have
Please kill me
They said the one you left will have a scar
But should I care
When they dont even care about me
What is a family?
I dont understand
They are not
No they’re not.
If you ever try to criticize me for advocating for myself, whether it be through feminism or something else, I’ll make you pay.
If you have ever been to the hate-group known as DeviantArt, you’ll know what I am about to get into.
I am an autistic asexual, and I am full of ideas. I dream everyday and night of worlds where nothing exists and yet everything exists. I dream of worlds that defy logic and characters that follow their own reasoning. For example, what if there was a world out there that was basically a living videogame? What if this world was in a perpetual creative flux where, say, a person could become whomever they wish with but a thought?
Apparently, though, the world that us homosapiens inhabit does not waste time with dreamers for a second.
If you are looking for a place to share your creative spirit, do not go to DeviantArt. The “artists” that make up this horrid place dedicate themselves to nothing else except spreading hate. They will not just hate what you create, but they will also hate who you are. They will do whatever is humanly possible to destroy your character and your life. I should know because I regrettably used to be one of their kind. When I first arrived to that place in 2006, I was immediately exposed to nothing but drama. Somebody said this, some people did this, and yadda yadda. To make a long story short, someone viciously wronged me once and I would make fake account after fake account just to get back at her. The anger and negativity of DeviantArt is so infectious that one can easily be transformed into something that they were never meant to be.
I digress, however.
There are hate stamps, hate stamps everywhere not just of what you love about others, but also about what you love about yourself. Are you overweight and satisfied? Are you of a different minority relating to skin color or sexual or gender identity, and concerned with another’s well-being? Are you a female or perhaps on the autism spectrum who feels that you are being misrepresented? If you are any or all of these, then the point will be made that you are not welcome. Your all-around existence is practically invalid because you either are annoying or you’re disturbing the peace. Don’t even think about defending yourself lest you want to be labeled “butthurt.”
The people on DeviantArt are not there to help you get better, but to help you conform. They won’t say what you need to improve on, but they will tell you to give up. I have met all kinds of “unique” individuals on DeviantArt that are so extreme that I tend to wonder about their mental state. I have met people who say that they enjoy making others feel worse about themselves. I have met people who say that they enjoy pessimism and negativity so much and want to take everyone down with them. What’s worse, they have the most twisted sense of entitlement as if they are allowed to hurt others. I remember once someone calling me a bully and a hypocrite when I got angry at her for telling me that I was going to hell for being who I am. The moderators did nothing to stop it, they even enabled it by saying it’s a sincerely held belief. Well, guess what, you filthy ingrates, I don’t believe I am going to hell, so where is my goddamn care and sympathy?