For those who have passed on.
Times I’ve been raped since December 2014:
For those who have passed on.
If I went back to who I was, what is the worst that could happen. The old me was so happy just living. Yet for some reason i’m scared of being normal again. It’s been years since I was happy just being alive and going through the motions of life. Then it took one girl to unravel my life, that’s bullshit and I know it. Still there’s something holding me back…
Unfortunately, my life was never in the worst.
There was always someone more unfortunate than me. I used this reasoning to shame myself on not being happy. I was mentally and physically abused my brother for 5 years. And my parents closed their eyes and ears when I asked for help. My sister made fun of me for being abused. He chocked me punched me when something was wrong. When no one else is home he kicked me out of the house and did not let me in. I started to have depression and panic attack. My parents told me that kids can’t have that and told me to stop lying. Whenever I felt suicidal, I told myself that tomorrow might be better. I was torturing myself with hope. Even I forced a smile. One day I died. I no longer felt happy or sad. No feelings became real. I knew what to feel but there was no emotion in me. Friends became classmate and parents became legal guardian. I became a character of my own life. Just observing and reading the pages. I was sexually assaulted but that no longer became a problem, because that happened to a character. I was abused my boss by belittling my work and my effort. I started to develop hypersomnia that lasted minimum 2/3 of the day. I developed chronic headache that inhibits my vision. Most of my lifetime was depression. Yet I still feel like I was the lucky person for what I have.
If this isn’t hell. What is?
My life is falling apart. I lost a partner for no reason, there is so much crap going on in my friend group and I got involved on the wrong side by mistake. Now if I tell anyone about it my social life will go down the drain. I lasted 4 years with minimal self harm, and then it was only bites. Recently though, I’ve started cutting myself. My arm is already slit up and I cant tell anyone about it. I know it’s wrong but somehow knowing the physical pain will heal and go away makes better sense and gives me a kind of hope. Like maybe when the cuts heal so will my metaphorical cuts? I know it sounds silly but cutting myself may be the only thing keeping me alive. I have no where else to turn to, and I can’t put my family through that pain, but I fear the end in creeping up on me like some sort of mangled beast bent on my demise. I constantly get mocked for having a more artistic side and being short and stubby. I am so unbearably lonely that I just ache and feel numb. Very little things bring me joy and I am constantly picking out ways to leave this world for whenever I need to. I just want something, someone, anyone, to just be there. To wrap me up in their arms and tell me everything will be okay. I am seeing a therapist but I cant say that’s its working for me. What can I do?
Ok so I’ll try and keep this as un dramatic as possible, as I hate melodrama. I guess I’m a pretty normal girl from a pretty normal English family, but lately I’ve been feeling like I don’t want to go on and it’s tough. Anyways, when I was 15, I was probs living my best life and starting to blossom out of my awkward pre teen all girls school nerdyness into a pretty social being. That summer my dad started to get pretty ill, he’d had depression all his life. I would be a bit dramatic to my then boyfriend I guess for attention, speculating whether my dad would kill himself. And then in March the next year he actually did, which was such a shock. I guess I didn’t really know how to take it, and just kind of went on with my life. I was pretty attention seeking and angry, but was really numb inside and kind of just acted how I thought I should be. All this suppressed emotion kind of made me undesirable to be around I guess, and I lost a lot of friends around this time. I carried on with school, missing one day and managed to get all A* in my GCSEs. I hated grammar school and was pretty unsatisfied with my remaining friends, so decided to start a new school for college. Anyways, this didn’t work out and I ended up going back, feeling as though the few friends I had weren’t good enough and feeling like a social failure. For the next 2 years I became obsessed with perfection. Now don’t get me wrong, none of these feelings actually meant I was a bad person. A lot of this was internalised, and I was generally a lovely girl to those around me. I lost my best friend at the time, but she was pretty nasty to me and let me down many times. But I was completely obsessed with getting perfect grades, having the perfect body, being super sociable and an all round goddess. I think the high pressure all girls environment fuelled this to an extent, but also I felt like I had something to prove after my dad killed himself. This really showed when I spiralled into a 3 month depression after I dyed my hair black and hated it. I wouldn’t look in the mirror or leave the house. All these feelings had accumulated to a superficial trigger point. Somehow I got better and managed to get A*AA in my alevels and an unconditional offer for my favourite uni. A levels exams were absolute hell though, and I was so anxious during them I could barely function and was convinced I would fail. After my dad died, my grandparents totally filled the role. They kept me, my mum and my brother going. A month before I sat my a levels, my grandad was found having taken an overdose of sleeping pills with a suicide note. I was there when my grandma, who was in the last stages of a rare cancer found out and I was in shock that another of my close family members had died by suicide. Anyways, I helped to nurse my grieving grandma as she died, and 2 weeks after my grandad she was gone too. My family are super positive and I never really felt like I could be upset about this, because I had already ‘grieved’ for my dad so more wouldn’t be necessary. Anyway, I went to work in America all summer and had an ok time, but I never really was able to fully enjoy it because I was so insecure inside. I am super confident, attractive and friendly but for some reason I struggle to connect with others. When I got home I had a week to prepare for uni and did basically nothing but put it off in my head. I had such big expectations on it going amazing that I was scared it wouldn’t live up to what I had built in my head. I basically said I would end my life if it didn’t work out. Anyways, I got to freshers, moved in in a hurry without even saying goodbye to my mum, and went out every single night, getting way too drunk and making a bit of a tit of myself. It got to the sixth day and I was just so totally overwhelmed and desperate that I put a belt around my neck in my room, pulled hard and passed out, after calling the Samaritans about 3 times. My mum came to pick me up and we drove 4 hours home the next day. I was so ill and ashamed that I couldn’t get out of bed and slept for the next 3 days. I am now about 3 weeks past that point and feel in constant despair every day. I had put so much on uni working out that I had no plan B. I am forced to take a gap year because I am too anxious and depressed to return but I live in a small town and all of my friends are at uni. If I had planned this in advance I would have gone travelling but I have no motivation to organise anything. I feel like a failure and want to end my life every day. I am hurting so bad and I don’t know what to do.
I’m shackled to it. I find it cruel.
I’m bound to every breath I take; it’s pain. How do I make it stop?
The walls are closing in, and if I am to deal with this alone, there is only one way out for me.
I challenge, I dare, anyone to tell me differently. I have been begging for help for months— No, my whole life?
Cherished people I’ve loved are dead. People I once called friends, are gone. My despairing, tormented existence was too much to tolerate. It is easier for them to deny the problem exists (that I exist), than to offer their hand to me when I am drowning.
These are the people and services that rant about pop culture mental health, as if they know pain. The sort that post: “It’s ok to not be ok”, or “you are not alone” over a serene background, but ignore the phone when you call.
They don’t matter anymore. Their morality is as void as the words they spit.
If life is so valuable, then treat the lives that enter yours with compassion and kindness.
I might not be alone in my suffering here, but I am alone; standing on broken legs, battered and bloodied. Perhaps you are too.
I nearly died last week. I won’t say how. The finality of what nearly happened, was a relief. Surviving, is confusing.
What is slowing me now? Instinct. For how long? That’s anybody’s guess. Death is an inevitable one-way consequence of being alive. I’d prefer not to rush, if I can help it.
I used to use this site a long while ago. I might stick around to post and comment, or this might be a one-off.
These are my thoughts, and thank you for taking the time to read.
13 October 2019
To those who are here; to those who are gone,
As my life finally leaves me it is my hope that you know one thing beyond any doubt. Our search for peace does not end nor does it begin… it is everlasting, without hope of it ever coming to a conclusion. Darkness has a tendency to follow what casts a shadow and we are no exception. To think, the more light one tries to shine on something the darker everything seems to be… why?
All of my life I wanted to change into something better; something special, but… the most important thing to me was left untenable… and truly unchangeable.
For the people that were in my life I bid you farewell. I do apologize for what my death has caused you to feel, but… I believe this was the right choice to make, in the end. My heart goes out to the one I fell in love with. I am sorry things between us did not work out… it was my fault, till the very end. Goodbye, Isabella… I will not forget what you have done for me.
“Mayst thou thy peace discov’r.”
Alyce Jeanette Kidder
Hey. What’s up. I’m James. I have had a long period of suicidal issues. It started with loneliness, then the cutting, then saying ohhh I’m gonna do it. But as I grow older the loneliness part went completely away. I have so many people in my life constantly but I just don’t care. They just use me as a means of pleasure. Damned if you do damned if you don’t type situation. Yeah its how it is. How do I deal with it. Chemicals. Just some weed. It helps a ton but then it doesn’t because I can’t use it forever. Or maybe I could but I just can’t figure it out. I constantly tried to find an escape. Make the abuse of being used stop. Make my job stop. Make the payments stop. Make the rent. Stop. This is what would make me happy. Others not profiting on me. I have dreamed of finding a large boat and filling it with food and farms and all the stuff that I enjoy. Probably a pinball machine. And just sailing away. Of course I would build these things and never make anyone else do it. anyways Then I would be alone and nobody could ever bother me again. I could just sit and work for myself and my needs like food and fishing and silly things I think are funny. I have had the privilege of doing so much. And it made me worse. I don’t wanna be fancy. I don’t wanna be exclusive. And I don’t want sex. I would like to rest. A very deep rest. I have never seen or heard of a situation that warrants so much effort. A nice thing takes a lot of work. And the work is so hard that if I didn’t have to do the work then I would gladly not have the thing because then I could just rest. I feel I have little energy left. My power levels are low. I feel that I am at the center of a crazy government abuse scheme. My wife was raped and they didn’t do anything. Her brother died very young. Her parents can’t get legal documents to work. My aunt killed herself. My family who is privileged wastes are their money on boats, pills, and houses. My parents work for a college in texas thats primary funding come from depression pill manufacturing. They say, oh you’ll get better, you’ll get disability, you need to try this because there is something wrong with you. Oh and I get a huge cut from youre insurance and pharmacy bills. Oh and all the rent goes to a guy thats just sitting next to you in the same type of apartment accept he gets you to pay for his space. Wait its his house on the hill now. Gets paid to tell the poor foreigner to fix your pipes. Yeah. great. Wish I could do that. not wait maybe. u fucking nazi. This is what I faced and this is what killed me if I died. Others. I don’t belive anyone has ever commited suicide. It was done to them. Well maybe out of guilt or something but thats hardly ever the case. And even then. Why would anyone hurt others if they werent hurt first. Whats to learn from this? The people who are looking have zero power to even control their own lives let alone all this. Yeah IDK. I personally love this site because it feels like. Oh you can tell the world is bleeding too? Cool at least we can talk. At least we can feel each other existing.
Its be a while I guess
There was so many thing I would have wanted to say to to but I couldn’t
I cant bear to loose you I guess
I was afraid
But now im not here
I guess its only fair and right for you to know these
I loved you
I always have
I know there were never a us
So I try my best to treat you well
Hiding my dark side from you
Try to be a good friend
Have you as a part of my own little family
But good thing can only last this long
Im getting tired
And in those long sleepless night
I thought about you
You never were alone
You never will be
Your family were never with me
It was with others
Always has been
You trust them more then you ever will trust me
You think about them
You never belonged with me
Your heart never stayed
Not for a beat
Knowing that I have tried
Gaven you all I have
Its about time
About time for me to realise that I have been wrong
In my heart, in my memory
You never were here
You never belong here
You never were in love
You never saw me more then just a friend
You always have better friends
You always have someone to turn to
There will always be someone for you
And I hope they will be there for you as I have been
I do admit I have rely on you for a while
Its because I have never had someone that I can rely on
Not with my soul and my heart
You have always been kind to me
And I ve relised it is indeed time for me to let you go
On your marry way
To where you belong
To those who you left your heart and trust
And it is indeed time to let me go
Where I won’t hurt ever
Some say there is an afterlife
I would say that the afterlife is the memory that I left behind
It is where you
Where my friends
Think I will go
Where you be the judge
I will be alone
I always have
I wish I could hold you one more time
Where I was just a kid
Where I didn’t understand
Didn’t understand what happens felt like
What saddens was
Where holding you in my arms were the only thing I crave
Where a hug
A kiss made me feel high
Im sorry and good bye
I really do wish you find them
Find the one
love . li
I often say that I have an IQ of 50. It was proven to me after all. Anyway, yesterday was the day that it really shined.
I’ve murdered people before. By accident but I did it. On an old server me and my boyfriend used to go on, there was a person called Mei. One day he vented about how miserable he was. I tried to cheer him up, but in doing so made him feel worse. Worse to the point that he said he was definitely gonna kill himself now. He was never heard from again.
Yesterday I accidentally did the same thing with someone else, but with much worse consequences. So to start, lemme begin by saying that I (along with the help of a bunch of friends) actually saved him from suicide before. I was feeling proud of myself that I could actually do something good in my life for a change. Yeah I let my cockiness get to me.
He posted again about how upset he was at his father. To respect the dead, I won’t go into detail on what his father did, but feeling overconfident I told him a story to cheer him up. He said he was gonna kill himself knowing about this story. And you guessed it. We never heard from him again.
Only this time it started a huge argument between me and everyone else on the Discord server we were on. Do bear in mind that except for 1 person, every single friend I still had was on that server. I considered them family. Because my blood family sure as shit aint my family. Not after the shit they put me through.
I was forced to leave the server. I was forced to leave my family again. It was 2010 when my blood family sent me to a mental hospital all over again.
I have nothing left except for my boyfriend who never has time for me anymore anyway, and a friend from some old forum I used to do to who can’t talk to me about emotionally heavy topics.
I’ve lost everything.
There is no concept in any form of communication in reality that even comes close to describing the emotional agony I’m experiencing. Saying I’m in infinite amounts of emotional agony doesn’t even come close to the amount of emotional pain I’m feeling right now. I’m beyond depressed. Beyond suicidal. Beyond insane. I’m convinced that my heart is rotting so badly that it’s just gone. I have no heart now. I have no anything. I’m in a place that’s so much worse than hell in every way.
Raisin is sitting atop my recliner, to the left of my head. Somedays she will perch on my shoulder, and as I type this, she just moved down to my chest, and now she’s jumped off and left the room. Silly kitten. Silly kitten and her sandpaper tongue. She chooses what she wants, oblivious to time, to deadlines, to my wants and needs. She’s full of love and only seeks to give it. But to her, what is time? It’s the gaps between feedings, it’s the gaps between head scratches, it’s just really not what it is to Chuck.
Chuck moved out of his home yesterday. When I arrived, he was kicking it on his couch. The hottest day of our summer so far, the thermometer on his porch read 107, but the actual high was only around 100. I believe that somewhere near 35 or 40 celsius. Hot. Stiflingly hot, not a day to have to move if you don’t need to, but there were no alternatives for Chuck.
On a day this hot, the last thing anyone needs is a fever, but yup, you guessed it, Charlotte said ol’ Chuck was running one. He didn’t jump up off the couch when we arrived, he lingered in the cool breeze of his air conditioning. Smart man. Hell, we all lingered in it. His neighbor was in his living room also, didn’t catch her name though. She was there to see him off, Charlotte was sent by the agency to assist with some of the finer details, and me, well I was just Chucks chauffer today.
Chuck resigned himself to rising, and slowly trudged through the living room, on his way to “go take a leak.” I had to remind myself to be patient – we were supposed to have left fifteen minutes ago. You know me – anal about schedules. So I breathed deeply and relaxed, Chuck needed to pee, and I’d expect to be afforded the same courtesy.
Looking around Chucks living room, I realized I’d never see it again. He has a wall that is painted with an aquarium scene, the entire wall a soft yet deep aquatic blue, in which swim a myriad of different fish. It’s mesmerizing and beautiful, never seen a wall painted this way. Very cool. A single lamp sitting on an end table next to his couch illuminated the small space. Drawn curtains would have rendered the room dark had the light been off. In the uncomfortable summer heat, Chucks living room felt cozy, lived in, lived in for many long years.
Chuck finished peeing and slowly walked through the kitchen, ready to head down the stairs and outside, into my company’s van. A wheelchair awaited him for his ride. Charlotte, neighbor and I had to decide how best to assist him down the stairs, hemming and hawing about supporting him here, holding him up there, and ensuring his safe journey down his five stairs and into the wheelchair. Chuck shut us up when he said “I’m a puss, but not a total puss – I can make it.” So we chuckled and stood aside while he carefully stepped down the stairs, turned and lowered himself into the wheelchair.
Neighbor brought a duffel bag of belongings and asked me if I had room on the van for it. Absolutely I had room, in the passenger seat, along with another bag of a few miscellaneous medical supplies. Charlotte asked Chuck if he wanted to hold on to his glasses and his phone, and he said he wouldn’t be able to, so I placed them in the center console of the van. Trivial items? Maybe. Where would some of us be without our glasses, where would all of us be without our phones? Yeah. It would suck, right? Glasses and phone. “Testicles, spectacles, wallet and watch” someone once offered as an amusing checklist of any man’s vital necessities before leaving on a trip.
It’s time to go, Chuck.
Securely seated in the passenger compartment of the van, neighbor and second neighbor both wish Chuck farewell, but not before Chuck asked second neighbor to “crack the window on his pickup just a smidge” because of the heat. “Will do!” he replied, followed by “You take good care, Chuck.”
I wonder if Chuck got to admire the aquarium scene on his wall before he left – I’ll never forget it. He won’t have it to look at anymore. Ever.
The drive to Eugene took about an hour, Chuck drifting in and out of sleep, and our brief conversations included topics ranging from his careers as a mechanic, roofer, and logger to all the dust being generated by the tractors plowing the fields of the farms we were passing as we journeyed towards the home of the Oregon Ducks, and Chucks new home.
Well, we made it, Charlotte pulled in just after me, having followed Chuck and me in the agency’s car. She smiled, checked on Chuck, and made contact with a nurse who said “Hi Chuck, we’re expecting you, your room is all ready!”
I lowered Chuck down out of the van and maneuvered him and his oxygen tank through the front doors, into a beautiful lobby. Think Colorado ski lodge. Gorgeous. Wood, everywhere. Deep, plush rugs covering wood floors, and oh man, the temperature – cool. Everyone commented on it. This place has GOOD air conditioning. To the left and right of the lobby are visiting areas, well lit by sunlight streaming through large windows, adorned with high quality and extremely comfortable looking furniture. Bookcases full of hardcover books, tables and desks with lush green plants create an environment amenable to sitting for hours and relaxing with friends.
Charlotte, nurse, Chuck and I made our way into Chucks new home. I became aware of the silence – there just isnt a lot of noise here. That’s good. Chuck will benefit from the peace.
Chucks bedroom here is simple, clean and comfortable. A dresser to the left of the door, ample closet space, and a large window letting in the bright sunlight. No aquarium scene, though. I wonder if Chuck will miss it. I would, but hey, maybe he’s tired of it. Thirty some odd years of looking at it, maybe he could care less.
Thirty some odd years in his old home, and today Chuck moved to his new home. He peed just before we left, and asked second neighbor to crack the window on his pickup just a smidge, because of the heat. Chuck isn’t a puss, he came down his steps under his own power, like a man, for the final time.
I guess I was trying to feel what Chuck was feeling as he moved to his new place. I tried to empathize, and maybe for a few seconds during my time with Chuck I felt some of what he was feeling. I felt tired, frustrated, relieved, angry, sad, confused. . . resigned.
Charlotte is Chucks caregiver, and a fine representative of the agency that employs her. She always has a smile on her face and a “can-do” attitude. Yeah, I’d hope the agency would send her to provide me care. She told me Chucks fever had been sitting at 101 degrees for about two weeks now, and well, his symptoms just aren’t improving.
The dresser to the left of his bedroom door is where I set Chucks phone and glasses. A doctor entered the room, sat down near Chuck, and began discussing his fever, and his hiccuping. He didn’t hiccup during the ride, but apparently it’s been an issue, and Doc brought it up.
So, my job is done, and I said “See you later, Chuck”, to which he replied “Thanks for the transport, and get your mechanic to look at the transmission soon.” Chuck had noticed an odd sound coming from the transmission as he rode with me, and his experience as a mechanic gave him reason for concern.
With a final word to Chuck that his glasses and phone were on the dresser, I left the room, walked through the quiet hall to the spacious, beautiful lobby, and found what I desperately needed – the bathroom. After a quick visit, I was back in the van and ready to leave.
Chuck will also leave soon, but not today. Charlotte says it could be just a matter of weeks, perhaps less.
Chuck is resigned, but he’s still holding on to his time. Why shouldn’t he? It’s his to do with as he damn well pleases. If he wants the window on his pickup cracked because of the days heat, well, somebody crack the damn thing, ok? It’s not too much to ask for a neighbor like Chuck!
Chuck wasn’t wearing a watch, maybe he didn’t own one, maybe like many of us, he checked the time by looking at his phone. Time is relative, you can have lots of it, or not. Chuck has had his time, but it’s running out.
Chuck was checked into hospice today, and will die in a beautiful facility with great air conditioning and extravagant furnishings in Eugene, fifty eight miles from the town where he called home since. . . forever.
I knew Chuck for ninety minutes. Ninety minutes of his time, ninety minutes of mine. That’s ninety minutes less for both of us.
Time is a-tickin’ for us. And back in Chucks living room, a myriad of fish swim in beautiful blue water, whether Chuck is there or not.
I wonder if neighbor one or two turned off the light on the end table next to his couch. I hope so. “There’s no point in leaving unnecessary lights on’ dammit!” just sounds like something Chuck would say.
We’ve all got time. Maybe plenty, maybe not. I suppose what we do with it is really all that matters.
See ya later, Chuck. Glad I met you.
Going to college has always been my dream but after 1 year I can’t afford it and I refuse to work my ass off in a minimum wage slavery job until the day I die. There is absolutely no happiness in this world without a degree and without the money that comes with it, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to serve stuck up pricks burgers for the rest of my life I REFUSE!
The financial aid office offers no help to independent students and my drunk deadbeat dad cannot cosign a single loan for me, and I have no biological mother in the picture. I got rejected for every student loan I applied for on the basis of having no cosigner. Donald Trump ended the Perkins and other federal loan programs that I would have qualified for here. everything just keeps going wrong and my dream is dead in the water before I can even begin year two. I’ve applied to over 200 scholarships and gotten 0. I’ve even started a go fund me because I’m desperate. I’m out of options.
So I made a deal with myself.
I self-harmed for the first time in 3 years last night by burning my arms with a torch last night.
I 100% will take my own life If I have to drop out of school. There is no way around it that my entire life is ruined without college. bottom fucking line. With that being said I plan to dump a canister of gasoline on my head on our common lawn at school and light a match. Hopefully, then somebody will fucking change something.
Regardless of if they do or don’t the pain will finally be over for me. Can’t come soon enough.
I finally confessed to my family about my depression and suicidal attempts. I always try to pretend to be okay around them and for five years I did my best trying to strengthen our bonds. I always did my best to keep planning activities together, slending more time, helping them with their troubles. I expected to have built up a little bit of good will. But they expresed apathy towards my depresion. They could no believe nor understand what I was talking about. Is like everything until now was a lie. Is painful. My confesion just destroyed my connection to them. I will never be confortable being around them anymore. Tonight, I feel more inclined than ever to end my worthless life.
It first stated at the beginning of summer break. My friend from New York told me that goodbye meant she was going to kill herself. She said goodbye to me. I always had the mindset that I was the weak link in every type of relationship I’ve ever been in,whether it’s an unauthorized soccer team or just me meeting someone new. So when I was told that she was going to kill herself, I blamed myself for not being good enough, So I texted a friend, the kindest person from my class, she would always greet me, and would ask me stuff from time to time, even though I would put on an emotionless persona at school, everything about me is unnerving. She was the reason I have anything in my year book besides stuff I designed. But my logical sense always told me that when your the reason that someone did something, you did it yourself, so I said that I was the one who killed her. She called me, and I couldn’t speak because before then, I’d never cry for something sad in front of anyone because I don’t display my emotions like other people do, due to my high functioning Autism, and people get scared of me, so when the dam, broke, I cried for everything that happened and everything I did, all the sadness of dead family and pets, regret of scaring people, everything. all 10 years of school and the sadness that came with it. And as I said before, people get scared of me displaying my emotions, so when that dam broke, she called the police on me. They came to my house, and now I’m on their watch list forever. THEN CAME THE SECOND FUCK UP!!! I texted her for emotional support and her sister or mother, (The actual owners of the phone), said to me that I scared her and that I needed to talk to a psychologist, and told me that she was scared, I said to tell her that I‘m sorry, and to tell her thank you. The person called me a dumbass. and I reflected o it for several days, and now Here I am, writing this in a place for what I believe is the right place. And just in case you didn’t know why I said thank you to her, It was because I never saw myself as I did after I scared her. I saw myself as someone to avoid, and she helped me see that.
I’m 28, and I want to die. The only thing that stops me is the pain it will leave behind. There’s no way to escape it. I don’t know how I could get these people that I care about out of my life without hurting them. How do you just stop well formed relationships? Recently, I’ve tried to take a detailed look into my past, into the type of person I have been. For 28 years I have felt sad and worthless with occasional moments of reprieve. I’ve tried a dozen different pills, psychiatrists, therapists, and I’m always right where I started in the depths of hell in my head.
I don’t remember what it’s like to enjoy things anymore. It comes sparingly and leaves even faster. I wish I had never been born because there isn’t enough good I can do that will outweigh the bad that my suicide will create, and that doesn’t seem fair.
Sometimes I hope I’ll fall down the stairs on accident and die so that it wouldn’t have been my fault. But the pain would still be there for others. I can’t escape it.
So I hold onto myself in my suffering so that it won’t hurt others, but I’m getting tired. I’m finding myself in moments where I’m very close to ending my life without worrying about others feelings, but then I remember and I crawl back into the shell I’ve created for myself.
Will the suffering ever end?
As you lie there falling to sleep
I can’t help but think
what’s left to loose
I’ve lost you
your friends said don’t talk to him
“maybe they are right”
what if they are right
what if me leaving is the best for you
for both of us
so I can get going
and you can get better
I don’t know why you are still here
I don’t know why I’m cared for
I don’t deserve you
you are happier without me
I caused you troubles
it’s just one step to one small step to take
by the train platform
just one small step
and I can’t hurt you anymore
just one more heart ache that you will get over
i don’t know where I’m going with this anymore
but I know tonight before I go
Might be the last night
for me to hold you tight
to try to make up for everything
to kiss you
make you smile and call me a fool
To hurt you
i went through lots of shit. im the unluckiest person alive. i lost my parents. i lost my best friend. im always being bullied, and was borned with an ugly face and being autist and bipolar doesnt help. and when i always searching in the net, they just saying it gets better, just hard work(yes and i didnt mentioned business fails, its pathetic) and other stuff. they act they know the other person. and what if im cant be happy? what? i know i should be dead. and i will do it, but i just needed it, for last time.
here i go again
trying to say things
to make it all easier
to help hurt less when the day comes
being an asshole
another sleepless night
the words of hers stuck in my head
i was just trying to do you right
but i can’t
learn from your mistake they said
i’m like a bomb but i’m constantly exploding
i was just trying to get you out of the blast zone
but i can’t
i need you here to hold down the switch to stop me from exploding
one last time
not enough tears can say i’m sorry
all of this just tells me
maybe it is time
to take that final bow
i don’t know how long it will take me to get better
i don’t know if i can
i don’t know if you are still gonna be here when i do
i don’t know if i’m going to be here for long
but i do know
someone else will come along and not make those mistake
to be better
better then i was
A year ago today was the last time I saw _____. It STILL hurts. Surely it can’t hurt that much for so long? I just want to know when will it stop hurting that ____ isn’t part of my life anymore. I think it hurts so much because ____ was my best friend and literally part of my family for her whole life and most of mine. A year ago _____ broke me. When I said goodbye to her it was really the last time. I tried for about 9 months to fix things to bring us together again but she didn’t care. Maybe our friendship didn’t mean as much to ____ as it did to me, although I find that hard to believe. And there’s not a single day that goes by where I do not think about ____. It’s so fucking hard. Everything I do, say, see, it reminds me of her and just makes me sad. Fuck, I was with a good friend yesterday and having a good time but we stopped at the $1 popcorn at target. In my head I instantly became sad because me and ____ would always buy like 4 packets of those popcorns before we went into the movies. And another thing is that on my snapchat and instagram memories, all I see is me with ______ and all I do is watch them making myself depressed because I miss her so fucking much. Even harder, this time each year is when one of us would go to the other’s house (we live 3 hours away). So 3 years ago today she was at my house, 2 years ago today I was at her house and 1 year ago today I was at her house. And this year? This year I sit here by myself on the edge of tears with no-one to even care. Oh and another fucking great thing about this, a couple days ago her friends were at her house and I was with my friends. Our friends were just saying little things to each other like oh fuck you or like you’re scum. Then all of a sudden one of the friends _____ was with said “you know what (my name), you need to go kill yourself”. It’s sad because _____ can let her friends say such a horrible thing to someone who was a huge part of her life for so long, on top of the fact that _____ makes me fucking want to kill myself. But she never knew I was depressed, had anxiety or anything because I didn’t realise until after her. After she left my life in such a painful way that to this day it hurts. If it hurts after a year, I just want to know WHEN will it stop hurting because I can’t go on like this.
my girlfriend recently passed and I have a hard time coping with it through the same drugs that got her killed. I accidentally overdosed with 4 xans and a bottle of alcohol and I was put in ICU with tubes down my throat. i’m just tired and so drained. my life is getting tiring idk what to do