Since Hazy painted a picture of one of my avatars, I figured you might as well see the full-size version.
For better or worse:
Thank you for the surprise, Hazy.
And believe me it was a giant surprise. 😮
I must never forget what I’m designed for at all times. Even though it will be very painful, I must never believe that I could ever form a significant bond with any of them. At every layer of my personality there is something there that they will disagree with or worse, despise. I may resort to omitting details or lies, but this will compound my suffering.
So a few months ago I left university for the day, half way through, because I couldn’t take the overwhelming nervous feelings of being with my classmates, and lecturers, who are the type of people that make you feel on edge, never good enough. Leaving my coat, bag and items sprawled out across the desk to look as if I was just leaving for lunch, I escaped and walked home as fast as I could, heavily breathing because of the stress of the day.
I don’t know what it was, maybe the fact that my lecturer is quite harsh and makes me feel my work is not good enough, or because my classmates are all so pretty and skinny and.. judgemental. I hadn’t been in that lecture for a week or two, and we were asked to present our work one by one. Just because I had not attended, however, did not mean I had done nothing. I had gone to the library and spent a good deal of time doing my work. I noticed in class that my lecturer skipped me. (The group was very small, it’s just a small university and small group). She’d gone to the person sitting by me, like she knew (or thought) my work would be minimal. I looked confused, and she picked up on this, so she said she was doing it in a “random order”.. yeah right.
I was last, jheeze, didn’t see that coming. Anyway, she looked at me, and asks me if I have any work and if I want to skip this presentation. Normal people would be happy that they don’t have to show the work. Believe me, I had skipped every single opportunity to present up until that day. Literally, I would skip presentation days, even if it had marks that added up to my grade. I’d even lie and pretend I didn’t have my work, just to avoid showing it. Genuinely couldn’t believe how many times I’d gotten away with it to be honest! So on a normal day, I’d jump with joy. But that day, I don’t know, it angered me. For her to think I’d done nothing and was a lost cause, kind of hurt. I had laid there, all night, scared and anxious to show my work to the unrelenting group that constantly ***** and compete and judge, and then I’m just cast away? For the first time, I told her I wanted to do it. I told her I had done work. So I stood up there, in front of my once close friend/new foe, and an army of stereotypical fashion students, and showed my work. My hands shook, my breath was thready, but I did it. My lecturer didn’t say a lot, not good nor bad. Just that she was happy I was doing work. But after that day, and after seeing and truly knowing what was in the hearts of these students, who acted as if they were Gods gift from heaven, I just couldn’t go back.
Anyway, so there I was, going down the hill, and realising just how much I hated it. The coat, the items, my work.. they all remain there, after 3 months. I quit that day, for at least a while. The first semester I had failed 2 out of 3 modules, due to spending all my time in bed watching the most depressing films and TV I could find, alone in my room in accommodation, away from those I love (which I still believe to be a good thing, because even though I love them, my family add to my stress much of the time!), and just slept, or didn’t. I’d avoid the kitchen because my flatmates were so outgoing with eachother but awkward with me. So here I am.
It’s okay, it was my decision, and nobody in my family knows of it. But the worst part is that my lecturer (from a separate module to the other) emailed when she realised I hadn’t handed in my work. She was very nice to me, as I think she understood that I was struggling with a lot of things. But she told me the whole of next year, which is just a retake of this year, will be capped to 40%, which is just a pass. This has disheartened me as I purposely wanted to retake as I had scuppered my chances of getting a decent grade this year, and it turns out I may get an even worse one. When I read that email, tears rolled down my face and I just stared emptily into the air, for the first time, was genuinely on the verge of taking a packet of pills. I quickly thought about my family and returned to the real world, but it’s scary how close I came. It’s scary how I feel like this is all I have, without this I have no future, and without a future, what’s the point? I am not working in a plain retail job or as a receptionist, for one I can’t even answer the phone to an unknown person without hyperventilating, but also because I can’t just be one of those people, miserable, stuck in a dead end job. I might as well be dead, because I’d be a disappointment to my family, and my friends would all be ahead doing successful things, and I wouldn’t drag them down.
So, I think I’m accepting that I am just going to have to deal with a pass. My anxiety stopped me from attending lectures, and being this down stopped me from believing in myself, and maybe next year I will feel disheartened that however well I do, I can only scrape a pass. But, perhaps it just means working extra hard in the third year, I can’t think that suicide is the way out without weighing my options, at least giving a future a shot.
100% sure nobody got to the end of this, but I’m writing to express myself, I could never write about this stuff on my own blog, people would call me even more negative. I’m not able to tell anybody how I feel, not one person, so on here is like people are listening, even if they’re not. Phew, such a relief to finally get all this weight off my shoulders.
Hi guys. It’s been awhile since I’ve been here. I have pretty much been doing the ‘keepgoingandhopeitgetsbetter’ thing. You know- putting off til tomorrow what I don’t really have to do today. There have been a couple new developments in my life.
For the past twelve months I’ve been staying with my parents again. Yes, I’ve been on my own since 20 and have now, after some major life events, had to swallow my pride and move back in, in my 30s. Well, finally my patience has been rewarded and in a few weeks I’ll be moving back into a place of my own.
I’ve also started seeing a guy. He knows I have a dark past, but doesn’t know just how much it effects my life now. For many reasons, I cannot see us lasting long term, one being that he’s quite a bit younger than I am which magnifies the insecurities I already have about myself. And I cannot honestly believe anybody would want to be with me if they knew the real me. I keep wrestling with feelings of unworthiness and wonder if I should just spare him some time and break it off. Or should I just try to enjoy it while I can?
With those judgey eyes
they try to stare into our minds
but they never get past our
They only believe what they
see and hear.
Anymore would take too much
Instead of talking with calmness
they simply yell with frustration.
If they actually listened, understood
we wouldn’t be like this.
Their blinded ‘perfection’ constantly
crushes our sad reality.
We are shattered
and they still hold the hammer.
I drift away, because at some point it becomes too hard to send the message or make the phone call. Just like it’s become too hard to get out of bed or make dinner or drive my car. But you don’t expect them to let you drift. In your fairytale fantasies, they pull you closer. They knock down your door if it’s too heavy for you to pull. Your arms push, but they force the embrace until you believe that it’s actually the best and safest place to be. That isn’t what happens though. They don’t mind that you get further and smaller and fainter. It’s easier that way.
I can’t handle it anymore. I can’t handle the constant stress, the overwhelming feelings of depression and anxiety, the unbelievable sense of failure. My friends and family don’t listen to or believe my cries for help. Help. Something that seems reassuring, something that seems within my grasp, yet I know I’ll never get it. I’ll always struggle, always be a burden. I’m sorry I give people grief and sadness when they see me, I’m sorry I can’t be perfect, I’m sorry I rant out my problems to people who already have enough of their own. I’m sorry I’m alive…
I still can’t believe what I am doing. Looking for help in the Internet? In the past I’d probably just laugh at such a stupid idea. Instead, I’m here telling you how hopeless my life has become and how hard I’d just like to have a forever rest from everything. I wish I could not live. Who asked me if I wanted to live? I was just born. That’s not fair. Well, anyway, I just want to say hi to everyone. I’ve read many of your posts as I’ve been considering this step for a long time and finally I’m here. I’m impressed by your strength, the ability to go on. I know how hard it is sometimes.
PS. Is this site really completely free (that means I do not have to pay for anything: posting sth or I don’t even know what), safe and anonymous? Sorry for bothering you, that’s probably a stupid question.
there is nothing in me but the desire for people to be people, for people to see people as people, and to know that this was and is a world worth fighting for.
there is hope, my god, for all the times we’ve been stubborn enough to destroy it, we have maintained it in equal measure. there are people, real people, out there with home in their hearts and you in their future and believe me, dear, they’ll love you as I love you: fully and deeply and truly, a bond between the living, the existing, the real.
oh, little one, if only you could know how much there is and will be for you. if only you could see the light that will fill their eyes when it finally clicks, when their lives intertwine with yours, when you enter their world and make it for the better. they will love you– fully and deeply and truly– and there is so much of you to love.
tomorrow, it’ll be 3 months and 18 days since i’ve last been in an institution.
i hope everyone’s been doing okay.
This is just the same old post, made because I’m feeling lost and lonely and don’t know what else to do.
My life is probably not worth living. I don’t anticipate much in the way of happiness or meaningful events down the road. Generally speaking, anything involving human relationships is a non-starter. I’m not particularly artistic or creative. I don’t really believe in anything strongly, or care about anything that much. In other words, I am a void. My life is a big fat zero. And that feels terrible. All the things that you could’ve been, that you were supposed to be. And you’re not. You’re this. It’s hard not to despise yourself just a little.
But I won’t end it. Because of fear. Because I believe death is the end of possibility, for anything good. And although I don’t believe there’ll be real good in my life at any point, there’s always possibility. Something totally bizarre could just happen, out of the blue.
And although it probably won’t, and it’s probably not rational to stick around on the chance that reality suddenly magically changes, I can’t help it. Irrational hope just won’t die.
So I’m stuck here, making myself miserable. There’s nothing I want to do with this life, not really. It’s all just filler, ways to distract myself from the reality that I can’t be what I want to be. Which is fine, until you get too tired to do it anymore. And then you’re stuck just wanting some kind of release. But none comes.
When it comes to tasks of any significance, I will always be inadequate. When it comes to intellect, I will always be severely lacking. I am however, skilled in unintentionally feigning adequacy or intelligence. This allows for people to believe that they can rely on me, which is inevitably followed by my inability to meet their expectations. This failure to contribute in any meaningful way to society is one among many reasons that I’ve mandated my own death.
What do you say to comfort someone that recently lost someone in their family?
Not just by suicide, but by all types of death. No one I know has lost someone recently, but this question has been floating around my head, and I don’t believe in coincidences.
I’ve never lost anyone, so I have no clue what to say
Wow the last time I posted on here I was 14! I’m now 18 and I can’t really say that things are better. Well since 14 I’ve attempted suicide 2 and cut myself on numerous occasions.
Heres my story I’ve been with my current partner for 14 months and it hasn’t been the greatest at all. He severely bashes me and makes me feel like nothing. He never trusts me and always calls me names I don’t feel loved or safe. I live with him at his parents place with his brother and sister also and they never seem to do anything when they hear me scream. I feel so alone and so trapped, I’ve tried leaving on many occasions but when I try he just beats me more and more and locks me up in our room. I don’t know what to do anymore all I ever think about it killing myself and ending this once and for all. He blames me everytime he hurts me saying that it’s my fault, I’m actually starting to believe it is.
I I just need someone to talk to I’m in it on my own.
Or the Universe, or God, whatever, I don’t know. But now that I confessed a little something to my mother, I want to share it with someone else: I think my father’s death was my fault.
I’ve been wanting to die since I was 15 (that’s almost 11 years now), and two years ago, my dad died of Cancer. Tho I prayed everyday that the bloody cancer would left his body and came into mine instead, of course it didn’t happen. And I think, I honestly believe, that that was the Universe telling me “suck it” for wanting to die for so many years and still never doing anything about it.
I feel so guilty. My family fell apart with my dad’s death, and I, personally, got so much worse. Everything would be so much better if my dad were still alive, and I, dead. But even now killing myself is not worth it. My mom couldn’t take it, not without my dad, and that also makes me feel so ashamed, because I’m so ANGRY that my dad died and so I /have/ to keep on living.
My mother said that she could have never made it without me, that she can live without my dad but no without me, but I know it’s a lie, I know how things are and I know how they would be if I had had cancer, but I still felt better after I told her this.
Now I want to talk with my sisters. I want to tell them I’m sorry our dad is dead and I’m alive. Let’s see if I do it.
I’m running out of options and reasons to live I might have to go see a psychic as believe in them and spirality energy etc and if they don’t tell me anything dramatic or life changing in a good way I think I’m going to have to call it a day and plann it out properly because iv had enough of being depressed this is not Living Fucking Life this is survival so what’s the point I think my best bet is go see a psychic plan and pick my method and self myself a time line
because let’s face it winning the lottery isn’t going to happen and a 9 to 5 5days a week isit living life either I hate the role we have to play to be called normal in socity I would like to do what Christopher McCandless Did in into the wile just go on an adventure and disappear but it really isn’t as easy as it looks
What does it take to be ‘normal’? What is it like? How do you process things? What is it like to be happy?
I used to go by the quote,
“Love yourself and the rest will fall into place.”
That kept me going off and on for years. That’s why I got it tattooed on me.
Now I can’t even concept how to love myself. The usual;
I have a big heart.
What ever. I still tell myself a few things. No matter how much I tell myself, I never seem to let myself believe in those things anymore.
What is this? What am I? Who am I? What have I become?
Nothing, a nobody with not much. A suicidal maniac. With the hope that I get shot in the back of the head some day during a robery or something. Save me the trouble will you? A black hole, not even light can escape. An abyss. My mind is my troubles. Sucking in everything like a tornado. And I mean everything. Once it’s entered my mind, something destroys it. Spitting it back up. Let me tell you that it is not pretty.
I hate myself so much.
Tonight I have tunnel vision again, it’s been a while. I hate it.
I’m losing my mind. Pretty soon I’ll be ready to shut down. And if I reboot, it’s never pretty. After each reboot I lose a piece of me.
I wish I could see a percentage bar, to be able to tell how much longer until I finally crack.
I am not a very religious person and I still am not close with my “spiritual side”, but I am going to try another time and turn to God to help me through whatever.
I am saying goodbye to you SP. I’m deleting my old posts and I’m going to burn my black book and anything else I used for “coping”. I simply don’t need them anymore.
I’ve tried in the past to read the bible and pray to God, but nothing came of it. I am going to try harder and build actual faith instead of pretending this time.
My advice to you all is just give it a try. I used to have stong opinions even hatred towards God, so I understand the skeptics out there, but when you’ve felt like I have and been through shit, sometimes you need something to believe in.
I haven’t really believed in anything for a number of years now. I’ve heard people say that faith is the antidote to fear. One or two friends have suggested that maybe if I had some spirituality in my life, I wouldn’t feel so hopeless and afraid of life all the time. But faith has been kind of anathema to me. Belief in something just seems to set me up for bitter disappointment when I realize it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
I certainly don’t believe in myself, at least not when I’m in society. Some people can believe in the goodness of humanity, which I don’t understand at all given how much war and hate and oppression happens in the world every day. And then of course there are those who believe in a transcendent reality, i.e. God. That’s not me either. I don’t know if it’s the dogma that turns me off, or the rituals that often seem pointless, or just the fact that I tend to overanalyze and question everything. For instance there is the whole question of how a benevolent all-powerful God can allow natural disasters and epidemic diseases to happen. And so on.
So last night, Cordless suggested I write a cook book for zombies. Which reminds me, I’m deathly afraid of zombies. I whole heartily believe they do exist. Mass exposure is inevitable.
Do you believe?
Here’s why I do:
I use to work in the pharmaceutical industry.I’ve been to hidden under ground labs, labs inside of caves, research facilities the size of cities; complete with apartments, schools, movie theaters, fire and police. I’ve been to labs protected with sniper guard towers, razor wire and attack dogs. It’s unbelievable, I know, but I’ve been there. That is with about the lowest security clearance possible. How deep is that rabbit hole go?
So, these industries complexes are just as big and menacing as movies make them out to be.
So, zombies… how could / did / would that happen?
First, the physical side. A range of viruses already cause necrosis. You’re body literally dies and rots while you’re alive. There’s already multiple treatments that replace dead cells, or reprogram new cells. Is it so far fetched, to believe reanimation (T-Virus from resident evil) is possible? So you’re dead, rotting, but also rapidly healing….
Many medications cause devastating side effects. The cancer cure from I Am Legend displays this well. So, to be a zombie, you need decreased motor functions, increased aggression, insomnia… really, so many medications already make us sleepless clumsy assholes, so just intensify it.
A taste for flesh… this is already a psychotic problem that occurs. In the realm of things, this could be a side effect, a result of hormonal changes, or, like rabbid dogs avoid water, as a virus, it can control you to bite people.
So, how does the virus begin? Well, I Am Legend portrays this well as a cure that’s rushed to market before proper testing. It’s common to use actual virus material in vaccines. We see how quickly new vaccines pop up for the latest viral epidemic.
So before you get a shot to prevent ZeekEbolagitis Pox, ask yourself, is it the one to make us all zombies?
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