This is what dealing with my anxiety looked like all through high school. And being bullied didn’t help my situation at all , I use to hide in my closet for hours with my headphones blasting My favorite music on repeat until each attack went away. I would cry myself to sleep wondering why I am the way I am. I wanted to commit suicide plenty of times , by cutting my wrist and watching myself bleed out. Thinking no one will miss me so why not , one period of time that really stuck out was My freshman year of high school where I attended Bryan station , which were many of my worst experiences of being bullied took place. Where the words “ bag of bones , twig , anorexic , Mel nourished , weird , ugly , etc….” were hitting me like bullets. I was teased everyday by the same group of people. I remember walking into dance class one day with blue sprayed hair , and one girl in particular that hated my entire existence. Stated in front of the whole class “ You think your cute but your ugly , you look like a shaved blue bird “ most people looked at me and started to laugh all I could hear was “ hahaha , she is ugly , look at her blue bird eww “. I wanted to cry so bad , but I couldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me weak , So All I could do was turn to her and say “ Thank you so much ? “ , and walked away and sat down. The girl was mad that I didn’t give her the reaction she wanted ( was to either fight her or cry ). my best friend at the time was so mad at me that I didnt give the girl the reaction she wanted either. Which was to hit her back with harsh words as well. But I had no choice but to handle it without confrontation, plus I wasn’t a confrontational person. Moral of the story is don’t bully a person , that seams to be different or weird or that doesn’t fit in with your social standards. And on top of that you don’t know what they are going through mentally, Because one day you may wake up and learn that they have killed them self’s over a few choice words you may have said to them that day. And to all my survivor’s out there know that you are beautiful , and i see you . And not being Accepted by people’s social standards is completely okay. There are people like you fighting everyday for their life’s. And there are people that care about your life , and that don’t want to see you lying in a casket.
Stories of Hope
- Honestly I don’t want to die. I just want this pain that I feel bury me, to go away .I want to truly be happy .That’s all I want .Juat to be happy, and the people around me to be happy. I only want true happiness. Do I have to die to achive that?
wanna die ..because she left me because of her friends….she dont have any feelings for me…feelings cant be expressed by writing ….just feel it…tried to move on bt cant…i just want to hang on bt i do care for my families..bt all this things hurted me soo much ..
I think that living is loving. And true love isn’t just a couple or something. True love is sacrifice. If you try to take love from others to fill your gap then you end up emptier and the others are missing the love you took. If you give love to others though, even if you don’t have love, if you give a piece of you away; you will find yourself more full than before. Loving is giving what you are missing. Love is really beyond logic, it doesn’t make sense, just like life. However, at the end, love is the only thing that remains and the only thing that matters <3
What if Life has no meaning without being meaningless?
What if Life is the meaning?
What if we are meant to be alive?
It may sound obvious but are we really alive?
And if we are not, isn’t it time to become?
For the purpose of time I will try not to drag this out or go overly into detail, although with in each part of my story their are days and weeks I could divulge into, tearing apart the brutality of living and why ultimately I am now happy to live. Light does come, light will come, please let this be an aid of hope.
I grew up in a ‘broken home’ as you could say, both my parents were around through my childhood though it did more harm than good. They fought a lot and had a lot of their own ‘issues’, school was never much of a break either. I was a promising girl when I was young, bright and friendly, but as I got older the promise faded, I couldn’t keep close friends or felt I had any, I was very distant from all of my family and was naturally a very withdrawn insecure person.
I’m not sure exactly why or how it begun, but at the young age of 12 I was overcome with sadness and started to self harm. It became a constant in my life from such a young age and when eventually my school found out I was belittled rather then helped or supported. I remember clearly to this day sitting in my head teachers office, tearful and tired and she told me ‘you are a dissapointment to this school’. I was 12.
When I started high school I was still incredibly depressed but did quickly make better friends than before and a lot of them. Many of them I could relate too which made life less lonely, and parents finally split up which was a relief at first. A lot of them were older and I quickly got I combed in the stuff older ‘sad kids’ did I guess. Nothing extreme but smoking and drinking, sometimes soft drugs. Everyone just tried to numb the pain and as I got older my urge to numb became worse as the trail of my life did.
i was sexually assaulted, in abusive relationships and constantly dragged down by my home life as a teen. I used to go out just to cause mayhem, I felt so angry at a lot of life. I always tried to be kind, that was all I wanted to be and I seemed to get smacked in the face for it again and again. No counseller could help me but just diagnosed me with joke after joke and tried relentlessly to get me to submit myself into a full time centre for treatment, but I always said I felt imprisoed emough all ready. I’d lose my mind locked up and at that point slight sanity was all I hung on to.
Both my parents had their own partners, and I became very close to my siblings in this time although they never understood. I lived with my dad and my stepmom who both treated me in a bad way. It was nothing terrible all the time, but they wouldn’t allow me a life or give me the freedom of brothers my age. They’d drink and pick at me, annoy me and try and tease a reaction with me, they’d get involved in my relationships and split me and people up who did me no harm. A lot of times I’d move out and stay at friends homes so I could be near school still. The generosity of other people’s parents saved me a lot.
I tried to kill my self a few times, but one time i had to get my stomach pumped and i was called a coward as I waited for the ambulance after being found in my room on the floor bleeding.
This weirdly was a turning point and I used a lot of my anger as inspiration to get a better life away from the people that had hurt me. I was still gravely depressed and experimented more and more with hard drugs.
this was amazingly the time of my life (although drugs are very risky, I don’t recommend them to anyone, please stay safe!) I partied hard and became quite popular because that’s all anyone wants to do really. One time at a party I took a dogey pill and blacked out. I’d had health problems before but this was different. I had siezures, and vomited crazy amounts. 3 ambulances came to resuscitate me after my heart stopped. The next day was all a mess, my mind was scrambled and I didn’t remember a lot. It’s so weird to think that I died for a while, I did what I had wanted to do for so long and came back from it. I didn’t know if I was happy or not, I was kinda grey the next few weeks, but every time I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin it felt like a blessing, and wherever I went I could hear the birds so clearly. I was certainly not perfect, and my death was short lived but I felt more alive than ever, reborn and with a second hope.
This set of my positive thinking and that’s when all the positives came, I met my current boyfriend, who I’ve been with for years, moved out and am currently studying, for what I hope is a beautiful future.
i still have bad days, and I know I always will, but a lifetime is a longtime so I can take the bad with the good.
A turning point will come, in a weird and wonderful form and you will wonder why you felt this way, you will accept why, and you will find a reason to keep on, live out the blessing in your hands. Yes life is pointless, so do whatever you want with it, but you better make the most of it too.
I’ll remember you all in therapy
(imma be getting that help :D)
When death is so near, sometimes it walks on padded feet, strumming the ground like a guitarist, rhythmically – louder – softer, then with fingers on the wood, tap, tap… tap, tap. The sound is everywhere, no one can hear it but the poor fuck. It builds and then suddenly subsides, then as each pebble of doubt and every dark word is cast into the waters of his mind, the song builds again on each ripple. Inside his head each wave combines with the last, getting larger and larger. With the sound of the pebbles dropping into the water, cast by each tap, tap… tap, tap of the syncopating guitarist’s strum, the poor fuck holds his face in his hands trying to stop his mind from throbbing with the tempo.
But its not so much the sound of the padded feet that is maddening, its the unseen presence, the incessant tap, tap… tap, tap, the ripples beating upon the shores of his mind and the knowledge that Death stands over his shoulder. The poor fuck’s head pulsates with Death’s breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Sucking him in. Blowing him out. Breathing him in, hurling him out – cold, icy breaths. The poor fuck lands on the floor, pummeled, bruised, exhausted.
Yesterday when he was spit out the last time, he was nearly catatonic, couldn’t move, limbs stiff, sprawled on his bed, the sheets became straps, holding him – a prisoner. All he wanted to do was hide from the sound. He closed his eyes and sought refuge, but he could still hear Death pacing on padded feet, tap, tap… tap, tap, strumming his every thought, saying to him, “I’m still here, remember why? Do you remember the time when… remember why you are a fool, an idiot, good for nothing asshole, God Damn you, you fuck, you are a fuck!”
With each word a phrase would be built until there was only one conclusion – he is a fuck, a good for nothing idiot, a fool, weak and better off if he were dead. Then Death lifted his wand and the poor fuck became the soloist, marching to Death’s tune, singing Death’s song as his own, strumming his hand on Death’s guitar, with each tap, tap… tap, tap in cadence with the words, “God Damn you, asshole, you fuck, you are better off dead.” With each chorus, the poor fuck would search his memory for new notes for the song – the times that proved he was an asshole, a fuck and God Damn you and shit and fuck. The poor fuck would tap each note out on Death’s guitar, stringing verses together from memories of pain and anguish – all woven in a cadence of tap, tap… tap, tap – his life according to Death’s song. With every chorus the poor fuck twisted Death’s razor wire round his head, sinking it deeper into his flesh, cutting the skin and muscle, blood streamed out in rivulets down his contorted face.
It was an easy song for Death to lead with his baton, standing in front of the poor fuck on padded feet, he had only to strum memories on his guitar. They all lead to the chorus of Death: Die You Fuck. It was a game to Death, the poor fuck would end up dying anyway someday, so Death played out the song on his guitar, strumming the background tap, tap… tap, tap – and the poor fuck would begin to sing, actually carry the song and relish Death’s vision of his life, using his own memories to drive the song its crescendo.
Day by day, from morning till night Death taught the poor fuck the song. The poor fuck sang the discordant melody willingly, and little by little, faithfully, it became his song, the truth of his life, the embodiment of the emotion of his soul. Death was supreme as a Maestro as each day he would lift his baton when the poor fuck awoke, and the first verse was Fuck or Shit and it was followed by a harmony of memories, ending in God Damn. Death kept building the song for the crescendo, when, from the poor fuck’s mouth; with his own fingers the fucker would end the song in perfect tragedy. “Oh,” Death thought, “it will happen soon as the poor fuck sings, let’s see, will it be today as the idiot holds his head in despair? When will the singer succumb to the logical conclusion of the song of his life, the life strung together by my brilliance?”
“Ah, it is coming, you can see it in his eyes, he is now carried by the song, Catatonia, the emotions surging and driving him to madness. Sing!” now Death encourages him, “remember your failures, the love lost, the family forsaken, all done by You, You Fuck, you’re coming to the end of the song… feel it!” The song rises in a movement to perfect destruction; Death waves his baton but still taps out the rhythm on his guitar and moves him toward the end of the scale.
“Remember the failures, remember when… you are a Fuck, why live?” Death sucks him in and then, in a wave of emotion blows him out. The poor fuck is flung on the floor, his head in pain, his voice spent as he tries to scream out the anguish – it is stuck in his throat and comes out in a whimper, his mouth contorts and he weeps –for himself, a poor fuck, God Damn person, good for nothing shit, failure of a man, destroyed, nothing. The poor fuck takes the baton and becomes the Maestro as Death steps aside on padded feet.
The poor fuck replaces the wand with a pistol, eases back the slide and watches the bullet dance in time with Death’s strumming; the bronze shell disappears into the chamber. Nine millimeters of cold steel pressed to his forehead, the poor fuck watches the gun quivering in his hand, black and cold, an end to a poor fuck – he shakes to the tune, tap, tap… tap, tap, faster, faster, faster, the end, he thinks, only a trigger pull away, “Poor fuck, go away, forever, be gone, God Damn piece of shit, it can be over.”
Dancing in tune with Death’s rhythm, he shakes, holding the trigger, ready; Death waits and taps his guitar, “Ready, pull…” “No,” the poor fuck says, “I don’t want it to end like this. This is not the way it is supposed to end….” and his face contorts, writhes in pain, “No!”
“The poor fuck is ruining the song! God Damn it!” Death screams.
“No,” weeps the poor fuck as he cries, tears pouring from his eyes, now wrinkled slits clamped shut against the reality of the cold steel of death.
Tap, tap… tap,…. Death stops the song. He looks at him, disgusted, “you fuck, you piece of shit, you fucked it up, you good for nothing shit head….” Then he calms himself, exhaling cold steel, knowing he has time to finish the song tomorrow. “Yes,” he says, “the song will start again and you, you poor fuck, will sing again and again the words of the chorus: Fuck, you shit, Fuck you, God Damn piece of shit. Then the memories can serve again as verse until the poor fuck is spit out on the floor again and maybe, tomorrow, the bullet will pass into his brain and end his suffering. His blood will ooze from the back of his skull and flecks of brain will dance on the pillow, the wall and the floor. His children will look at him in shock, his parents collapse in grief and a new song can be tapped out in the ears of his sons and daughters as they remember the poor fuck, and I will creep up on them with padded feet and begin to strum their song on my guitar tap, tap… tap, tap, and carry their dark words to their lips.”
But whether he pulls the trigger tomorrow or not doesn’t matter, Death’s song has made him useless, a poor fuck, good for nothing – the singing itself only adds more verse, more strength to the truth captured in the chorus. Death stops strumming his guitar and walks away, on padded feet, thinking that tomorrow will be another day to toy with the poor fuck and that the verse won’t be altered because the poor fuck thinks that he doesn’t want it to end that way.
As the poor fuck lies on the floor, gun discarded next to him, a new rhythm takes shape, and so silent it is not audible, but inside his mind, in the clarity of the exhaustion left behind from his song of Death, the void is filled with despondent relief, a sadness quelled, a new beat, a soft chord, soothing his injury, massaging his bruises. All through the night it played.
The next day, Death returned on padded feet and found a new maestro in his place holding a baton, playing softly, peacefully on another instrument. Death looked at this newcomer with scorn and took up his guitar: tap, tap… tap, tap. The man responded, hearing the song of his soul and said, “Fuck, you shit, asshole, God Damn!” And Death smiled and turned in triumph to the new composer standing by his side. He laughed and called the composer a fuck, a shit, you loser, and then said, “I won, now fuck off.”
The composer looked at him, nonplussed and went on with his song. A chord drifted on invisible notes as the poor fuck was saying, “Fuck, God Damn.” Then the poor fuck heard the new song and stopped singing Death’s song. He said to himself, “What if I don’t say Fuck and God Damn, what if I say good things about myself. What the fuck do I have to lose?” And so the composer smiled and let the music dance, the dark words disappearing in the light of new words, soothing words, encouraging words – good words. Slowly, as the man forced the words from his lips his soul began to feel better and the darkness of God Damn was gone. After a time, he just felt numb, and then the pain began to subside and it was replaced with hope, and… faith, faith that he is not a poor fuck, but a man with goodness, goodness and what? And the anger replaced by faith, and faith encouraged by the light of love.
At this, Death fumed. He swore at the composer and tried to make the poor fuck sing. Death leaned close to him to suck him in, but the man wouldn’t sing, he wasn’t paying attention to Death’s baton. Tap, tap… tap, tap – Death strummed and beat on his guitar, but the man could not hear it would not hear it, he was listening to the other composer, the Maestro of light. Death shrieked, “Stop that God Damn song! Stop it! Stop it! Fuck you! Fuck off! God Damn it, you Fuck, You Fuck! Shit, Fuck you ass hole, Stop that God Damn song!” But the man would not stop listening to the new song and he began to add words of his own, and he renamed himself, in harmony with the new melody, he was no longer poor fuck.
Death, furious, dropped his guitar, took his strong dark words, placed them in his pocket, tucked away the nearly completed composition and walked away, on padded feet.
Reality is boring ! Real life is boring ! Real world is boring ! Humanity/Mankind must move beyond money & politics for real progress !
Reality is boring, Humanity/Mankind must move beyond money & politics for real progress.
Although technology have been progressing rapidly nowadays, yet sadly in many aspects, Humanity/Mankind/Society still have slow progress; Everyday is still the same day & problems over and over again repeatedly.
I believe that in order to make a real progress for Humanity / Mankind, we must quickly focus & do the followings:
1) We must move beyond money & politics. It is outdated. A lot of problems in this world today basically stems from these two root causes (& also superstitions especially in religion, as well as in Ignorance & Stupidity due to failure in Education). For a truly real progress, we must start to focus on much more important things. Try look up/google for Universal Basic Income (UBI), as well as Resource Based Economy (RBE), The Venus Project, & The Zeitgeist Movement, for starter.
2) We must seriously consider that there is a possibility that Humanity / Mankind will go extinct / extinction. Most probably caused by our own Ignorance & Stupidity, as well as Greed. Therefore, we must prepare for the worst possible scenario, and one best solution is to start building a system of selection for the best few candidates of Humanity / Mankind (10% of the planet’s population, for example), whom will continue the future of our Humans Species in the best, smartest, most intelligent, rational, logical, most creative, wisest, & most civilized as possible.
3) Finally, we must unleash our Human’s greatest & most important potential: Imagination. If reality is boring & very limited/limiting, then the only way for us is to start focusing quickly on how to enter the world of Imagination, and turn it into reality ASAP. Some very important technology that must be quickly developed are: Artificial Intelligence (AI), Virtual Reality (VR), Augmented Reality (AR), biological Mutations, entering our Consciousness into the vast Net, as well as Transhumanism. We must turn the wildest, most imaginative movies & video games for example like science fiction (sci-fi) into reality ASAP, for real progress.
Otherwise, we will be stuck in this boring reality everyday, repeating over and over again, & even it could get worse & worse!
My heart is on the floor around, and the sickness that has haunted me all my life, is taking a human form.
She [the sickness/disease ] is crawling to my knees to keep it’s weight on me, she doesn’t want me to move forward. At this time all I can make, is thoughts.
At times like these I like to gather my self into a greater form. I like to heal the wounds by giving them reasons and justifications – I’m walking alone, but I’m the one who is paving the path. Healing the woulds is something to be done with mind only.
but the wounds keep coming through the broken damn;
my mom is suffering, there is no extra penny in the house, my studies are at a question of financing. Will I succeed this semester? will I have the strength? the will? could I overcome? My brother is in fears. I crave for relationship….
My stomach hurts….. this damn disease. I am losing my weight, losing my form. From a muscular guy, I’m turning into thin sheets of ice – I feel so invisible next to the mass of people walking next to me. I feel like any extra weight, will cause me to break… break into tears.
I’m comforted by the idea of having best friends, but those are never there…… I watch the old cartoons for the feels of innocence, but innocence never exist in my head..
So all I have as a company, is my sickness, who crawls to my knees and hold me on, pulling me to the floor. She doesn’t know, that she actually is the reason for me to fight.
She is the reminder of the clock, my time is ticking….
She wakes my eyes, and let me re adjust – What good for are goods when none of them is the right treatment?
Why should I bury my eyes in sunglasses, if I can use my time for seeing the joy of life?
Why would I only focus on the struggles when I can focus on my ability to overcome them?
I feel fulfilled when I’m paving my path – and if that is where I find comfort.
Then my sickness can hold as much as she wants, but she is coming with me.
I might be alone on this phylum, but I will always be alive.
Alive, and motivated.
Stay strong, Be brave
Yours for ages – Jac.
Last few months, that thing I have heard from people who care about me.
“Sometimes It takes a loss to gain something beautiful to your life.”
“You are like a vine or plant that are trying to grow and your ex-friend is a brick block your way out and weight you down…You have made so much of a process and she didn’t let herself to move one and grow from it. You are on right path. ”
“You are so sweet person with a good soul. Yes, we all make mistake and that makes us human. I have lived with an abuser for 6 years and you are not like him at all. A real abuser does not accept their mistake and own up to it. They show no remorse. You clearly do and that is how much you show your love for other expect yourself. Don’t ever think that, a friend who act on toxic behavior, maybe yes, but a real abuser? Trust me you are not. ”
After me asking my girlfriend what she see in me and why she does this for me? ” You are funny and cute with a really good soul. You deserve all good things in the world.” She held me as I cried.
“I am so glad to hear you say that you are sick of being too hard on yourself…I am too! *Laughers* You have made so much process and you should be proud of yourself. You soar so fast right after hitting the bottom on your own, and that said something about you… You are an amazing woman.”
“You are stronger than me. Yes, even though you are suicidal and have a hard time, but you are stronger than I am. I could not believe that YOU can’t see it. Why everyone sees it and you don’t?! I wish I could do it as you could.” -a long time ago by my ex.
I have heard many things and I could not remember all but… after type this out and it becomes valid.
I do not allow myself to disappear out of my existence. Even If I want to, I would not. It will always be like that.
Somewhere deep inside me do believe I deserve better. I have experienced some worse of the worse at young ages and know the word, lonely, too well than anyone could. Yet, I keep going. I just walk through all the bullshits and keep my eye on something that any humans need. Love. I am worthy of it.
It’s been a while since I’ve last been on here. As a matter of fact, it has been a while since I’ve confronted myself about what is going on around me. For the most part, I blame it on school. I have loads of work to do and having to balance it while also dealing with my parent’s bullshit takes up all my time. I guess part of the reason I have not been putting anything on here is also because I fear someone finding out that this account belongs to me. Anyways, things have been all over the place. I have relapsed twice last month and as of today, I am six days clean of cutting. I held on for about 180 days and I didn’t cut but I just kept on feeling numb. At this point I can say that I no longer care, I do not think I am ever going to completely stop cutting. If not cutting, I self harm using other methods. To be completely honest, I do not know how much I have put out there but I’m going to start by saying that I had a set plan. I was not in the country and before I left I told myself that on the day I was supposed to come back I would take my life, but unfortunately I did not. I have nothing to hold on to anymore and I just do not seem to have a purpose.
On a side note, I got my ears pierced a few days ago without asking my parents for permission. Where I live, it is totally legal and you do not need your parents consent as long as it is on your ears. I have asked my mom whether I could get them pierced before but she kept on saying no and although I tried convincing her she wouldn’t listen to me and she would just shut it down. At one point, she was fine with it and told me it is your choice but I know she said it to send me away. Finally, when I went out with a friend, I gathered enough courage to get more piercings. We were at the mall, and I suggested it since there was a pharmacy that would do them for around 16$ for two holes. She called her mom to ask whether she could get it done and her mom said she could only get one. On the other hand, I saw no point in calling my mom because first, she had no idea that I was at the mall since my parents would never be okay with me going out with a friend on my own to the mall. Second, I knew it was a hopeless case and she would say no. Third, I stand to believe that it is my body and it belongs to me which means I am free to do whatever it is I want to do with it, so I did not need her permission to do something to my body. As ironic as it sounds, I was not put into her in order to serve her, if that makes sense. After getting them done, I told my older sister and she said she was glad I finally got them done since she knew how much I have been wanting them. I kept my ears covered for the past few days but I forgot to do so today. I had just finished working out and my mom was calling my siblings and I in order for us to have lunch. I hurried and forgot to put my hair done so when I was half way done with my lunch, my mom asks me whether I got my ears pierced and frightened I say no, she gets up and asks again so I said yes. She came closer and started hitting the place I got pierced and I told her to stop because it hurts. She kept on hitting me while asking where I got them and how. With my dad just sitting there, I lied and said I got them when I went with them to the mall, since I visited the mall the day after getting them pierced but with them. She kept on implying that obviously I’ve done worse shit without them knowing. I continuously told her that it is my body, however, she asked over and over again what people would think of me now since I had more than three piercings. That set me off, I just hate it so much because all people care about over here is what others have to say about each other. If I do end up not killing myself, I just hope I get out of here. For those of you wondering, all my dad said was that it was because they give us a monthly allowance, which is literally the only thing he provides for us so he can fucking continue spending his money on hookers and trying to cover up how big of an asshole he is. Yes, my relationship with my parents is based off of lies. They lie to me and I lie to them. There is no point in trying to be honest with them because they are the least understanding people and most probably the biggest hypocrites out there. I still remember when I was about 7-9 years old, my mom would force me to sleep and if I wouldn’t sleep she would tell me that she would call my dad and let him hit me. Often, it happened and I think it is why I fear just speaking to my dad.
It’s about to happen. I can feel it within me. The next phase is about to commence. I feel a great ache for growth. All the things i couldn’t do. All the things i didn’t do right in the past put me into a paralysis as soon as high school ended. And for 3 years time has just kinda went on its own. I feel like I’ve watched myself go through these past years in 3rd person view….almost as if i was in auto-pilot. Emptiness from realizing that things could have been better had i just not been so depressed. If i could have just trusted people instead of being such a loner. I’m sure everybody worried I’d shoot up the school someday. Heck people would joke around about me doing that. It bothered me because I was no stereotypical loner, I was no Nikolas Cruz. I didn’t hate anyone. I wasn’t weak like all these other loners who go around hurting people. I was just so sad. Yes i had bullies but i quickly forgave those who hurt me. I knew their taunts weren’t anything personal. I knew my bullies just had problems of their own so i forgave them. I am not one to carry hate so easily. I am one who forgives often yet i can’t forgive myself. I know i have to forgive myself in order to let go of the past. The past can’t be changed so i must let it go….it doesn’t exist. Now is the the only thing that will ever exist. There is no past. I’m aching for life and so I will live on. But I’m tired of being in this paralysis. I am ready to accept my circumstances and what i have to do to move on. I have a bumpy road ahead but I’m ready to take it head on and make up for lost time. I want to live life to the fullest. In order to do that I’m gonna need to live in the moment. No more overanalyzing past events for me….they are irrelevant.
I am here. Simply as it is that. For few months, I was thinking that nothing is truly last. I lost someone, a good friend who I care and love very much. The last person, I would expect to lose. It takes me a while for me to recover from that loss. I didn’t want to believe it is my loss. Now I accept it happens to me and it does not matter if I deserve it or not. I simply lost someone and it affects my life in good and bad ways. I still have hard time to look at something I love such as art I enjoy so much come with stabs in the heart. I used to do everything relates it to that person. I feel the lonely but same time it shows how much I don’t pay attention to myself enough. I finally get my hair cut as I want it to be. I finally get my own car and I am able to drive and go to work. I actually meet some new friends and finally explore more sexual side that I very much needs. I have joined a certain large group that I have dreams to join for so long and was too scared to do so. But now I am part of that amazing world and it really does help with my self-esteem and my identity. It makes me accepting who I am now. I am still struggling to see myself not as a toxic, awful person but a really good person with a hopeless big heart. I really am a good person.
I already accept that I made mistakes and accept that I did act on the toxic behavior I wish I didn’t. I was out of control and was a sad person who took a break from school, overwhelming with everything changes and plus with her father in a hospital… I was trying hold on the last person too tightly and broke her. I accepted I did that and forgive myself for it. I do hope that person would too someday.
I am still hurt that I lost her to other ex-friends. Last two weeks, I was travel to New York and Washington DC. I did a lot of thinking and went on tour. I have so much fun with my friends. With my good friends, we chat and have fun as if it is like I never left. I am thankful to have them to remind me that I am not that evil person I thought I might have becomes. I am someone who is too hard on herself. And I am ready to change that. I am sick of it.
In few days I will be home, and I am ready for a long sleep and wake up to a new morning. I notice my body improves and only shaking two times a month. That is a huge improvement…
I will edit this later but yeah. Things get better for me.
Hi there, I’ve probably had suicidal thoughts for a little over half of my lifetime, but it has always been more of an academic debate for me, I would think about what my family would do without me, how my friends would feel, and I know I couldn’t go through with it. I don’t know why I never killed myself, I never really had any reason to stay alive, I wasn’t exactly the most promising kid I knew, I’m not athletic, I’m awkward as hell, and I’m not even that attractive…
And I had every reason to do it…
My stepdad was abusive, and made me feel like worse than dirt, I was scared to do anything, I would hide in my room all day, I never went out, I never made many friends, at most I would have 6-7 people I talked to regularly interspersed throughout my day.
Life was empty for me, sucked dry of fulfillment by my own personal demons, and even now, a little over 6 months after I left his physical clutches, I’m still stuck in that house mentally…
I think a great metaphor to describe this is that just last night I had a dream where He was in my new house, and as I was climbing up the stairs, he just smiled at me, and I tripped on my way up, He wasn’t being threatening, just smiled, he was sitting on a couch, and just his presence scared me…
And now, I’m in the worst depression I’ve ever experienced in my life, but I’m not tempted to kill myself, don’t get me wrong, I welcome death, but I have no desire to end myself…
If I was given the opportunity to sacrifice myself, so that others would benefit, I would do it in a heartbeat, Death doesn’t scare me anymore, I’m still a wuss, and can’t stand pain, but Death doesn’t frighten me…
The thing I think that’s kept me from ending it all, is probably jointly caused by a promise I made to myself when I was 9(way too young to be having these thoughts, might I add!) to never kill myself, excluding sacrificing myself for the sake of others, and my stepdad, who said that “suicide is the coward’s way out” and not killing myself is sort of defiance against him…
Luckily, it’s not all bad, I’ve read somewhere that those who suffer from depression often laugh louder than those who don’t, so when I’m with my friends, I feel fine, but 10 minutes alone and I’m moping…
I’ve always wanted to have an impact in the world, which I suppose held me back from ending it all, but as I fall further into despair, my fantasies of making a difference become more and more bleak, and they lose the idealism, until they devolved into “How can I be a supervillain so the world unites and kills me, and becomes a better place after I die…
This section would be where I put more Political contributors to my depression(as in they involve my political leanings) I won’t share them unless people ask for them, as I don’t want to get any backlash for this…
I don’t want to hurt my friends, or my family, so I will never commit suicide, but that’s almost worse isn’t it? to be trapped by everything you love, but also supported by it? it’s almost poetic, isn’t it? I hope all of you who read this find happiness, and it lasts you a lifetime…
Until next time…
In the last month, I felt on a breaking point. I opened this site because I had to write, for my own mental health. I had to put it all out. for fuck sake.
The untold story by many suicide attempts (and survivors) is what pushed them. Most of them (***) are talking about miss understanding the reality itself. I wish to ask them – how can you understand a reality where you have been the victim of abuse? How can you explain to yourself ” oh everything can be perfect” when each day is just you avoiding the damage?
I want to post here in this site the following: People (most of them) kill them selves as a last way out. The most heartbreaking are stories of victims of abuse/bullying/rape, or perhaps they were in a bad health state.
The main idea is to come clean and say, there are reasons. Maybe some are pretty fixable, and maybe some won’t be fixed, but will be less bad in the future. It depends on the human being, if he is ready to cope with them.
I don’t like that people ignore this fact. Let us all come clean and admit that life aren’t perfect. Every single person has its own shit. Why is it not being shown on facebook? Why is it being ignored?
Why people focus on god damn physical state (aka skinny and muscular) so much , but they don’t give a two damn shits about mental health? Your mind is an organ, keep it working, keep it up.
I’m optimistic. I’m focusing on the target and hoping to reach good places. I wish to be a good man, kind, and to overcome my struggles and depression or what ever this is.
It would be cool to know your opinions on the subject; Is reality fine? Maybe we need to admit everyone has problems and we have to know how to do the trade offs?
I’ve this inner voice in me, each freaking night. This inner (**)voice tells me what I need and what I don’t have. Why do I crave so bad for those things? Personally I think this is normal, and it is okay, but I don’t see people admiting it to me in person, and saying “yeah, I cry at nights too”. I’m a freaking man, I’m almost 21, and I’m crying some of the nights. I wish I had a dad, I wish I had things I don’t. Those are wishes that will stay fantasy. But there is something that I can make a dream come true.
That dream is me saying to people “hey, I’m #### , and I’ve been depressed for a while.”…
“I had few breakdowns, didn’t talk with friends for long time…. I’m always smiling because I’m happy to live and I like you guys. But personaly, each night, I’m crying.”
That dream is me being a grown man, going and helping others.
That dream is me being a good dad.
That dream is me making foundation for single mothers, to help them raise their kids.
That dream is me succeeding at the university.
Got to go… won’t write anymore.
Stay strong, be brave, Yours – Jac.
*** as seen in youtube and other places, all those my suicide attempt speeches
** metaphorical speaking. I’m not actually hearing voices.
Hi guys its goooodguyyy!:D
i know i said that i won’t be back until i do the exam. but i just checked sp i thought maybe its good if i talk about the way i was doing these months.
yeah i said i was trying to make a difference and a change in me and my life and since then i have failed 23 times(today is counted). i have tried and failed,tried and failed:D. well, i know im not perfect but i am forgiving, i may not be where i should be but im making progress, im moving forward im not where i used to be 🙂
since then i have downloaded so many motivational videos(20). i watch them whenever i feel the need and when the stupid feelings come.”beinspired” the yutube channel is very good.i listen to so many speeches of les brown. Les is 73 and i really want to meet him before he is gone.
this video is really really good. please watch it 🙂
if you are a little tired and don’t like the motivational shouts and stuuff, watch it from minute 7. its the best part of it )
nowadays i think that 19 years of my life has past so fast, and now my mom and dad are 47 y/o my uncle is 50, grandma is 65 (and so many other people that i love) and in a blink of an eye passes another 20 years… and (im fine something just went in my eye 😀 ) and these people may not be around anymore then… and i will be so sad:(. since im thinking this way, every moment is good and the very best moment i have in a day is when we’re having dinner and family is together. i try to be more thankful to my mom and dad and others. be more polite and …
i workout, drink 2 cups of coffee per day(around 7-8 am,5-6 pm), spread love, be positive, be wishful, be patience, be happy, be thankful, make better music, try to study better and …
we live only once, and a life can be happy if you want to.
the world is in the way it is and i have only one life, so at least i try to live a good life :). as joel osteen says:” life is too short to go through it with negative things holding us down.”
every time i want to check sp, im worried about something.
the thing is to see if a friend has done “it”.
so i don’t check usually. sorry this is the way i am because i really like to meet you guys in person and if “it” happens, thats not good:l.
but the good thing is to see that some people are still around:).
still caring and still helping eachother to make a better living.
now im worried about clippedwings. she is like my second mother. i really like the way she talks to everyone. i have learned a lot from her.
wish she is fine right now.
love you all
ps: sorry guys if i didn’t reply back to your comments in the last post.
Hey you. You can still live that way. Living with a heavy heart, a chaotic mind, that’s fine. You can use it as your strength. Being like that pushes yourself to be better. You’re an artist. You can let out your demons in your drawings. You can draw your own world. You can express anything through your pen. If it hurts, draw! Drawing is a big part of your life, you know that without this, you’re useless! Being able to draw is a gift for you! It serves as your protector in life! Even if sometimes you can’t draw, remember that you draw to live. It is a big source of your life! If you think others are better than you, That’s fine! You can be better also. They are just way ahead of you but it doesn’t mean you can’t catch up to them or overtake them. It takes time.
I know today I’m being optimistic cause I know it will be a long time again to be like this again, so while I’m at it, I’m leaving you this message. Always read this. Don’t forget!
-Your Optimistic Self
Yesterday I broke down.
Yesterday I posted here my most utter feelings and ideas, I didn’t censor anything. That man yesterday, was me, it still is me, but for now it is all under control.
I want you all to know that I’m doing well, and this is a fact for all of us , that we all have those grey days, but at the end of each session, we have bright ones too.
I’m not at my best, nor at my worst. I’m just living life as much as I can, and as much as socially accepted.
I sometimes fantasize about suicide, it is how I can keep on waking up at morning, and keep going through.
Like many of you, I don’t see how I can recover from anything that I’ve been through but I’m still giving it a chance.
I’m working my best toward a better future. After graduation I would go and get a treatment. I want to take care of my mental health.
I never had a chance to stop and see where my life is going to. I never had the chance to put a stop sign on the fucked up situations I was thrown to. I finally have a chance to fight for freedom and this is what I’m doing.
I’m currently studying engineering at one of the best universities world wide. I only need to keep on going. I will graduate in another 3 years or so.
I wish you all the best, I’m finishing this post with a good bye. I have a way to walk, and new experience are waiting for me upfront. I know I will break again, this has happened already few times before, and will keep on being.
Stay strong ,be brave, yours ; Jac.
Hello! If you remember any of my last posts (I don’t blame you if you dont), I’m currently in a mental rehabilitation center as necessary due to my recent suicide attempt. They allowed me technology today.
They’ve been shoving psyciatric pills down my throat and it’s so annoying, but I guess whatever helps. I hope to be out by the end of March.
See you the next time Im allowed my phone. Stay strong.