December was when I had my last appointments with my therapist and psychiatrist, and that is when they said they’d send out new ones in the new year. A month later and I’m still waiting for the letter. So I decided to call up their offices, to find out whether they’d made one and I just hadn’t got the letter.Â Turns out they haven’t even fucking made one with me.Â What a nice way to find out even my psychiatrist and therapist have given up with me, a fucking phone call with their receptionist. I don’t even know if this means they’ve discharged me or not. Even I know I shouldn’t be, not with what’s wrong with me. Not when I haven’t had the chance to tell them what’s really going on.
Right now, I’m 20 hours away from the rest of my family and my friends. I’m taking online classes and getting new medication since I can’t get medication where I live.
It’s not very fun. I have therapy sessions every other day, doctor’s appointments, and I have my depression, paranoia, bipolarity, ptsd and ocd to deal with.
Guess what though? This is a vacation for me. When I go back to my school in November, the vacation’s over. When I go back, I have to plaster that smile back on my face. I’ll have to talk to my friends, pretend everything’s alright. It’s really exhausting to have to push everything deep down inside me and become a different person when I’m at school. I don’t like calling attention to myself , so when I’m around other people I put on the face everyone else wants to see. When I go home though, I look in the mirror and see the ugly truth behind all of the lies.
I’m not perfect, I’m a liar.
Raining endlessly, the usual bipolar weather of New England. Cold & drabby, yet a constant reminder of how she feels on a regular basis. Allows her to empathize with at least something, but ironically rain has no vitalities, schedules, appointments, nothing. Mere droplets, all without knowledge, lacking a single breath of life, just free falling, rhythmically dancing with not a even a slight reason or for any purpose. It’s all just there, forced to fall by the weathering ways of Earth’s atmosphere, its recycling. Yet may still compare with individuals prior to “living,”, born without a choice, forced to live amongst others, unknowing & dancing in synchronization.
I kinda made this profile because I wanted to tell someone my life story… And I don’t have anyone close to me that I want to share it with. So I am writing it here, anonymously.
But let’s take it from the beginning:
I’m a boy from Denmark, 19 years old at the moment, but that is not where my story starts. My story starts all the way back when I was a child. You see, I have always been bullied, first by the bigger kids in my kindergarten, then by the kids in my class in school. Therefore my parents quickly decided to teach me self defense. And it would have been the end of it, if the other kids didn’t outnumber me 10-to-1.
But as time went on, I suddenly didn’t care anymore. My parents tell me, now, when I talk to them that I became more and more vicious towards those weaker than me. But I didn’t feel anything. No hate, no love, no happiness, no sorrow, nothing at all. Only thing I respected was strength, the ability to lord over those weaker than yourself. And I slowly earned the fear of my classmates, when I one-by-one challenged them to fights and won.Â But as I stated earlier, this doesn’t help you against that many. So my parents decided to move away and find a new school. And all seemed good, for the first month, then the bullying started again.
Now by this time I was about 10-11 years old and of course I thought it was my own fault. So what did I do? I tried to commit suicide by jumping off the roof of the school. I ended up with a broken arm. I decided instead that I was going to seek proffessional help, as the school therapeut had just met with our class. And so I went to him and continued to have 3 weekly appointments with him for the next 3 years.
Now in denmark (I don’t know about the rest of the world, so going to explain.), we have a thing called Confirmation. (Kinda like the jewish Bar Mitzvah, but for protestants) We would all go to our respective churces for 1Â½ hour each week for lessons + we had to go to church on sunday atleast 10 times. I finally found my place, the place where I felt alive. It was later taken from me, but we’ll get to that. The priest was a man about the age of 50, but he had the energy to match the rest of us, a bunch of horny 13 year olds. He had enough Charisma to convince me to go to church, even after I had finished my Confirmation. But it still wasn’t enough to keep me from trying suicide again.
Too weeks prior to my 14th birthday, I tied a rope to the edge of my house and tied it around my neck. I was going to hang my self. But a well-timed phonecall from him, where I think he knew what was happening despite me trying to deceive him, convinced me that I had too much to live for. And I was happy for a while, or so I thought. According to my former friends and classmates, I became the most ruthless, cruel and evil person they had ever encountered. Using my former respect for strength and nothing else, I “found” a group of friends. In truth they were terrified of me, thinking I might have beaten them if they ignored or stood up against me. And I did, when one of them tried to tell me that I wasn’t invited into their group I assaulted him with a stick. And then I realised what I had become. I had become the very embodiment of what had been done to me. Of course this had the effect of convincing my bullies to leave me alone.
At the time, the only joy I found was with my girlfriend who I loved more than anything. Now she was 2 years older than me and, like me, still a virgin at the time. So when the time came for us to have sex for the first time, I enjoyed every minute of it. It wasn’t until three months later that I found out that she, from that day, had had sex with another guy, often. And so I broke up with her and was heartbroken, but determined(!). Determined not to let myself go down the pit of despair that I had lived in for so long.
But things don’t always go as we plan and I soon fell back into my old role as the tyrrant. Now despite this, I felt no hate for anybody. I felt no love for anybody. I felt nothing again. Nothing at all. Only thing I could feel was physical pain. And so I began getting into more and more fights.
This stage continued until I had turned 16. There I decided, once and for all, to end my suffering. And so I grabbed a kitchen knife, one day I was alone, and tried to slice my own throat. But for some reason I couldn’t get myself to do it. For some reason I kept thinking back to that priest. I still had his number, even though I had stopped going to church at the age of 15. So I called him up and told him everything. And what happened then, I cannot even begin to describe. It was like a burden had been lifted from my soul. He convinced me to go back to church, where I met my next girlfriend, whom I dated for a year and a half, untill she became too much and I left her. Since then I have not been able to get back to that church because of her.
But the thing is, I was okay with that, for I had my friends at the time. 3 months later I found anonther girlfriend, the polar opposite of my last one. And we dated for a year until I found out that she was cheating on me. Now the thing is, I haven’t gone back to my old self after we broke up, but I have neither had ANY emotions at all. I don’t laugh, I don’t cry. And I kinda like it this way.
But that is the story of my life so far and I hope that I will someday meet the woman who can give me back my happiness, but so far all I find is nothingness.
Now if you can relate to my story know this: I don’t care. I’m not here looking for someone to tell me what I should have done or what I could have done. I am here because I needed to get something off my chest. Which I have now. So farewell.
I have missed three psychiatry appointments because I don’t want someone to tell me I’m depressed nor do I want to believe in the existence of depression.Â (Which is a damn contradiction cause I’m a psych major and I know it does). I don’t want pills. I don’t want to talk about how I feel. The furthest I ever got to getting help was to the door of my psychiatrist’s office. I freaked out and left. I’m doing a half-ass job in everything. My GPA went down wayyy low. Money, my biggest motivator doesn’t even wake me up in the morning for work anymore. Guess this is karma for being an ignorant bastard and once telling someone diagnosed with depression to “suck it up”….
Why is it so hard for me to let people in? Why do I put on a mask and hide my emotions? I can almost feel a curtain come down, blocking my soul from whoever may be there.
I just don’t know what to do. I feel stuck,trapped oddly enough by my family. My husband has too much at work, and I don’t know how my kids would handle me having a second stay in the hospital in one year. That’s why the permanent solution keeps rolling around in my brain. Just be done with all of this. There’s a part of me that wishes my family gone for the simple fact that I would certainly be dead by now. Then I feel guilty for not just thinking that thought, but even typing it here.
I am tired of being the one. I am my mom’s caretaker and I am the one who has to go to all of her appointments with her, get her meds, make new appointments, cook, clean, and basically everything else. Then there’s my sister. She is handicapped and I fear that sooner or later I’m going to have to take care of her too. I don’t want these jobs anymore. It’s been almost 2 years. I don’t want anything, to be honest, but to disappear. To end all of this emotionally,mentally, physically, draining things. But I’m too chicken shit. I’m a coward. I would rather die at the hands of the cancer that I fought so hard to beat, or a car crash, because then in death I would not be hated any more than I am now. What they hell is wrong with me?I’m worrying about what people will think of me when I’m gone?
I gave in to my cutting urges. It was so unsatisfying. Why? I was disappointed in the lack of release it use to give me. Sad. So what’s the next step? What could replace that release? I have no idea. I just had an incredibly strong urge to punch something. It came from my gut,in to my mind, wanting to destroy something. And really, it doesn’t matter if it’s an object or myself. Anything to let this rage out. Fuck. It’s hard trying to reign these feelings in.
And I’m not too happy about that. Let’s hope they go well or I’m gonna really fire up. If I have any severe reactions to my procedures next week everybody’s gonna know about it because I’ll be dealing my mental state out to everyone.
For years I’ve been miserable. At night in high school I would lock my door at night before I went to bed. I would stay up until 3 or 4, or sometimes not go to bed at all. I’d cry and listen to music like a lot of insecure guys would like me. just made me feel worse and worse. Somewhere around 2, i’d finish my homework. And then get up at 630. High school=tiring.
College was better, but not much better. I started taking adderall since I took some and felt okay with myself for the first time of my life. Something like loving myself. But really only when I was taking it regularly. I never abused it or sold it.
I found a girlfriend. She was pretty and we got along. Then I started to disappoint myself. I broke up with her over Facebook after a year and a half of being together. I felt the need to make more mistakes before I settled down with anybody. I shrugged it off.
Then I met someone who challenged me. In every way. I was nervous all the time, but when I succeeded, if felt like happy to be me. It was real love.
Then my insecurities caught up to me. She tried to tell me to keep it together but I never could. Months and one-night stand mistakes later, I end up not talking to her. She says I need to see a therapist and feel happy about myself.
I hate who I am. I always have. I can’t see anything worth liking about myself, and I couldn’t love anyone because of it. I’m setting up appointments to see a therapist soon, but I hope no one ever hands me a gun and leaves me in an empty room. The temptation would be too great.
Enough about me. What’s your story?
My life has always been messed up. The earliest memory I can remember was of my mum holding one of my arms and dragging my out the front door of my first home and my other hand reaching out for my dad who stood and watched. I was screaming and crying. I didn’t want to go.
I’ve lived in many homes since my mum and dad got divorced. And mum has had many boyfriends. One was Gavin who had a son. They were really nice at first but I got scared of Gavin. One day during one of Their arguments I was hungry so I went into the room they were in a whispered to mum “can I have a treat”. Mum stood up and said to Gavin, “look! Even ******’s scared of you!”
Before my mum married my dad she married someone else and had my older sister *****. MY dad had also married once before and had a daughter called ****.
But the worst boyfriend was Stephen. I was never a big eater and 1 slice of toast was sufficient for me in the morning but of course, Stephen wanted me to eat 2 and always put me down, every morning. He already had 2 girls, one older then me called ***** and one younger one called ****. I liked them at first but later found out they had been telling Stephen that I did things that I never did, getting me into trouble. I was mentally abused to the point I was diagnosed with severe depression and my psychologist canceled appointments to get me in. Mum and Stephen had twin girls, **** and ***** but they alter divorced. It wasn’t until they divorced that I realized, 1. Stephen was only being rude to me to get back at mum and 2. Mum had caused the depression, not Stephen.
Now, my dad has re-married and I have a step sister and a step brother. My dad reduced the time he saw me to every 2 weeks instead of every week.
I have felt a knife pressed against my chest before but I didn’t push because I thought of my friends. I was 10 at the time. I am now 13, I cut, I have a lot of suicidal thought and I have ultimate lows in my mood. My grandma no-longer likes me, claiming I have anger issues. I am left alone with my mum and the twins, who drive me absolutely insane. My mum has called me horrific names, and told me she wishes I was never born (of course she denies it now) and said quite often “kids, why have them?”
She hates me and puts on a sweet fake act whenever I have friends around.
I honestly don’t know if life I worth living anymore…
so today is the big day, my 16th birthday. it was great at school. i heard happy birthday from all of my friends, got all of the attention blah blah blah. that’s nice and all but what i would die for right now would be for my mom to tell me. it’s almost 4 oclock and i have yet to hear those 2 words come out of her mouth. this may sound selfish of me to some people. but i am just someone who lives and breathes for my mom to accept me, and to be interested in me. but oh well. i’m looking into spending the night in my room, listening to music. maybe i’ll even work up the motivation to rent pitch perfect on itunes haha. to say the least this has been the worst i’ve been in a while. it’s just so hard for me because when my mom and i are good, were GREAT and there’s nobody in the world i would trade her for. but we were bad we’re awful. she won’t even look me in the eye, says not to talk to her after my appointments on friday. appointments for what you ask? just being mentally tested because she is on a never-ending search to find some medical reason as an excuse that makes me, me. she had me at a young age and isn’t the best parent. she sees this picture that mothers and their daughters don’t fight… or maybe she does acknowledge that but she thinks for some reason that we fight worse. okay so maybe we do. but it’s not all me, i promise. i have been through some shitty stuff in my life making me who i am. moving so much, my grandpa who both of us were closer than ever too dying, my mom turning gay, my dad kicking me out and wanting nothing to do with me. i don’t know, but i feel like i have somewhat of an excuse to be a little bit moody at times. it’s just crazy because at school you would NEVER expect the life that i have at home. i am all smiles 24/7. not to be cocky, but i am in the quote on quote “popular group…” getting guys has never been hard for me and i’m pretty athletic. sometimes i wish i could just stay at school all of the time. there it’s like i have a normal life. but when i come home it’s all i can do not to just go to bed or cry. when i’m not grounded i have such a great time and honestly feel like i behave better at home! but the thing is is that i am ALWAYS grounded. i walk down the stairs a little too loud for my moms liking and my phone is gone. i don’t just hop right up when she asks me to do something i’m grounded for the next 4 weeekends. it’s just if my mom treats me so bad and always complains about how she hates my attitude and how i’m so miserable to be around, why won’t you unground me then? so i never have to be home. but nooooo this is supposedly teaching me a lesson. being grounded 2/3 of the time is just the norm to me now. it’s not teaching me any kind of lesson. just ruining my social life. i want new ways of dealing with my life, i want to change my home life desperately, but what can i do? i have no idea. i just want this life to be over. i want to be someone else.
My name is Brittnee and I am 20 years old! I have been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder and sentenced to a life of medication and therapist analyzing my every thought and move! I have been a cutter for 6 years and after my recent suicide attempt my parents made me move back home and my mother does a ~fresh cut check~ every single night. That’s where I have to go into her room and strip down to my bra and panties and she checks my body for new cuts! It’s humiliating. If I do have new cuts I am taken to the behavioral health clinic the next day! I have spent more time in a mental hospital than I have in my own home. My first stay was when I was 12 which is the first time I cut my wrists. I have been hospitalized 13 times and every time all they do is give me more medicine and turn me into a zombie. I have a little girl Laycie who just turned 4 months old and my parents will not leave me alone with her I mean ever. They babysit me while I hold my own daughter. I know they are trying to help me and I appreciate it but I feel smothered and that makes me want to cut more and hurt myself. I feel like with my new medication I am doing better and that getting out on my own will help me more! They say that they will never allow me to take my daughter with me. I have custody of her and have been to see a lawyer who says as long as I can comply with my medication and go to my weekly therapist appointments that he sees no reason for Laycie to be removed from my care. Am I stupid for wanting to leave my parents home? I am well aware of my issues but I am being slowly suffocated to death. I’m afraid if I stay and they keep making me feel likeÂ I am insane and incapable of raising my daughter that I will just go ahead and kill myself and I don’t want to do that to the people I love especially not to Laycie.
i know this will sound stupid but i honestly dont know what to do anymore. i am a 14 year old girl who suffers from diabetes, coeliacs disease, under active thyroid, andÂ psoriasis. i hate my life! i think i suffer from depression but i dont know? ive never told anyone about how i feel, and at the moment its like everyday is a task and getting through it is very difficult!
i already feel bad posting this because some people are going through so much worse than me but being 14 with psoriasis is a living hell. when my friends look so nice in all of their clothes i honestly, if i had a gun, could shoot myself there and then because i have to cover my body up so no one can see the disgusting body thats underneath!
with diabetes i have to inject four times a day and when it comes to appointments and its always a bad result i feel like im letting everyone down-wait a second- i am! i think everyone would find the world a better place if i werent in it! all i seem to do is disappoint and make other people feel bad for my mistakes!
its taken me a month to post this because ive never confessed anything to anyone! ive cut myself a number of times and im starting to feel that its not enough! i need to die. im not worth it. im ugly, why is life worth living if im going to be alone for it?
sorry for everything, i wont post again if im being selfish.
It just seems I cant get a break recently. After all the drama and problems last week, I find out I`ll possibly need another root canal, which my mom cant afford. Shes been slamming stuff around and crying, just upset in general. She keeps saying all I asked you to do is brush your teeth, my credit is maxed out, your dad isnt going to help and then she quits talking to me period.
Its just stressing me out..I feel horrible I keep adding all this pressure, with my appointments and medicine..I cant even get myself to cry anymore. Im sick of being a burden to her.
Then because Im already feeling in a bad enough mood, I go and check out my dads facebook and see all that drama is still on his timeline. If the worse case scenario works out, which it is likely to work out, Im not sure how im going to do this anymore.
I watched a documentary on assisted suicide, and some of the things he said really hit home. “Im not tired of living, Im tired of this disease” and other things like that, and well its made me think more and more about my final decision
The only positive Ive had the past 2 weeks was I found the song “Love Her by Seether”
“Down on her knees, she wept on the floor – this hopeless life she wanted no more
Dead in her mind and cold to the bone – she opened her eyes and saw she was alone
She never found out how much I tried – all of the sadness she kept made me blind
She never found out how much I cried – the rope so tight on the night that she died…”
I got told by many doctors and psychiatrists that I had depression around two/three years ago. Since then they have told me that “it will get better” or “you can be cured”. Lately, I haven’t noticed anything getting better at all. Actually, I’ve been feeling a lot worse than usual. A few weeks ago I had an appointment to see if I needed medication, they told me once again that “it will get better”. So, no medication. I’m not angry that I didn’t get it, I’m just sick of hearing the same thing over and over again.
My sister also has depression. But, unlike me, she has an eating disorder and was sexually abused. She self harms, and so do I.
This may seem really selfish and immature, but I have no one to tell. I need to get all of this out because it’s been boiling inside of me.
Because she has been abused I feel as though my parents believe she has a real reason to be depressed, and hey, so did the hospital because she got psychiatrist appointments as soon as my mum called them, and when mum called to try and get me one, they said that my suicide attempt wasn’t “serious enough”. Anyway, they always monitor her self harm, and tell me that I have to be careful so I don’t trigger her. I feel as though I am constantly walking on egg shells so she doesn’t skip a meal, or need stitches because she’s cut too deep. And yet, here I am, trying to be strong. Trying to do this on my own because I am paranoid my friends don’t care about me. Trying to get better because I don’t want to be like this anymore.
I know it’s typical to say, but I feel like I am not important to anyone. Everyone somehow believes I will pull through and I will get better. No one asks if I am okay because my sister is in hospital or came to school crying. I just feel alone, you know? Like there’s only room in my family for my sister’s problems and no one else’s. I’m not blaming her for what happened, because I know it was NOT her fault, and I hate that bloody man more than I hate anyone. I’m just a little tired of keeping my sadness to myself.
There’s a new girl who is in the waiting room at my psychiatrist’s office. She sits and waits while I sit and wait. She must be seeing someone else in the building at the same time as my appointment. She is pretty. She has more exposed cuts than anyone else I have seen. They look like they were put there deliberately. Most are completely healed. I want to say hi to her. I want to ask if she will be my friend. She looks sad and I feel crazy. Would it be wrong to ask her to meet up at the fancy juice bar after our appointments?
Why am I such a stupid fuck? I really cant stand myself. 2 hours by myself and I’m “in a mood” again. Wasn’t even contemplaiting suicide this morning because I was working a bit and suddenly, like a fingersnap, I just want to die. I remember that I despise myself. And that I’m the most disgusting monster on the planet.
I like being by myself, because I can do whatever I want. But I guess I really need distraction. Especially if I havent smoked weed yet. Thought I should smoke less so I didnt smoke yet. (no thats a lie I tell myself, I didnt earn enough money to buy my weekly supply since I wanna go out next weekend, fuck). I thought I could go a few hours without, but no.
Didnt really work this morning either, because Im stupid I guess. Just sent some emails and prepared myself for my appointments today.. I got an appointment in one hour with “my slut”. Thats what he likes to call himself. It really disgusts me. I dont like submissive men. (I dont have a problem with it though, I just rather not have them because I’m not into it I guess).. I actually think Im gonna need a few shots to get through this afternoon.
I am 12, almost 13. I wish i could have a normal, happy life. I just got out of an eating disorder treatment center, like 2 weeks ago. I still have to go back there for family therapy and doctors appointments and today, after i did my vitals(peeing in a cup and being weighed) they found something in my urine that was the first sign of starvation. And they said my weight has been dropping. I hate my life. I hate the way i look, i am so fat and ugly. I want to be skinny. I want to go to school online. I want to be happy.
IÂ have had an undiagnosed illness for 7 months now.Â My symptoms are too overwhelming to indicate here however it is of a medical nature not psychological. This illness has left me mostly bedridden, unable to leave the house except for dr’s appointments and unable to drive and struggling to walk. Â I’m in my mid 30’s and had everything going for me. I mean everything. I considered my life to be almost perfect. I am a lover of all life has to offer and now all i can do is look out my bedroom window and see everyone else and everything living. My new doctor seems certain that he will be able to pinpoint what is making me so ill.Â I’ve been to so many specialists and have had so many tests that i feel like an alien being probed.Â I feel like whatever is wrong with me will hardly have quick fix and since i have going so long without a diagnosis my body is damaged for life.Â I don’t want to live if i’m going to be like this forever but i literally have no way out. I envy those who have gone peacfully to the other side. I live through my dreams and the best ones are those in which i have someone who understands that can take the pain away.Â All i can do for now is hold on in this isolation.