Taken from Robert Crumb’s Plunge Into The Depths Of Despair (1983)
And if anyone wants these comic strips in a PDF form:
Although I may never commit suicide
I spend parts of each day thinking about suicide –
Thinking about how I lack the courage to do it.
I wake in the mourning with 60 per cent depression.
That’s how it remains for the whole day,
Except for the odd occasion in a year
In the doorway or on the street I meet by chance
For a few minutes a woman passing-by
Who has the time to stop and talk for three minutes
Or five minutes or even sometimes seven or eight minutes,
Who rocks back on her heels in her pink, hooped skirt
With laughter, no matter what the topic.
Depression and despair are two different states
Of mind, not having a lot in common.
Although I have 60 per cent depression, I do not despair.
I do not see eye to eye with Samuel Beckett
Who disapproved of suicide and who promulgated
The doctrine of ”going on” for the sake of ”going on”.
Estranged from my family, if I do not soon
Take my own life, others will take it from me –
Hooded males with knives in their tracksuits
Or medics in their scrubs prancing corridors
Or cowpat-faced ward sisters smirking
Or ice-cold proprietors of old peoples’s homes.
How is it that you do not see it, Samuel,
That I do not want to go on for the sake of going on –
Seeing the same old, tired-out impressionist paintings again and again?
Men are such po-faced bores.
Each one of them an editor-in-chief.
I wand to stand still by the water’s edge.
I want to hold a woman’s hand for the last time.
I want to fill my pockets with Palaeozoic stones.
I want to open my eyes.
From the collection Praise In Which I Live And Move And Have My Being (2012).
It’s been months since I’ve started to come here to find comfort, just seeing people as eager to quit this world as me makes me feel better, I felt safe, and comfortable each time I opened up the website, so I’ve decided to create an account too.
My issue is not necessarily coming from a particular event but much more from a profoundly anchored existantial boredom. Each passing day is the same, even though I know there is so much I have not seen? Being human is such a weird experience. There are so many things I want to say I don’t know what to start with?
I do not believe in anything really, I do not believe in kindness, love, good or bad, I like to observe how they come in different forms and from different things but I do not believe there is some kind of universal good or bad. That makes me quite apathetic to suffering and disgust, I do feel them, I just see it all as part of the game. Things just are what they are.
I am supposed to find what I want to do with my life, right now, but I don’t believe in anything so there is nothing I want to do. All my interests end up boring me, I know there’s so much but because I see there’s so much nothing really stands out to me.
I appreciate having nothing to do, being alone and walking in my appartment with an empty stare. Looking at the grey sky, I like when the sky is grey, I dislike the sun, there’s is no depth and serenity in the sun, no mystery at all.
I find myself partaking in different activities but giving them up as quickly as I started them. I can’t stay still in front of a movie I have to watch them in 2 or 3 parts. I get interested by so many topics and start reading different genres of books but never finish anything. I think of many projects to keep myself occupied but never follow through them. I talk to people but end up thinking there’s nothing to say and language never fullfills its goal properly.
Poetry, books, games, I tried many things but in the end nothing works.
I first thought if I solved what caused this boredom I would be happier but it turns out the boredom always comes back no matter what I do or try. And I can’t stop it.
Life is bound to be disappointing and suffering cannot be avoided unless you decide to die in one way or another, to me buddhist monks do die in a way.
Reality is disappointing because even when you get what you want it seemed “better in your mind” and in your mind everything is frustrating because it is immaterial. So nothing can ever be fulfilling.
Many solve their boredom with love. But I can’t. I always think too much about it and ruin it. I ruin everything for myself and then pretend it doesn’t make me unhappy and I laugh at misery,”It’s fun”, I say, “I’m fine with this reality I think it’s funny”.
I used to think of ideal partners in my head and love stories I’d have with them. I used to think I’d love to find someone who I can just stop talking with and someone who has an emptiness in their gaze, someone who sees the profound lack of meaning in this giant playground. Someone aware of their existential boredom. But I feel like any partner I could imagine would never exist, it is an ideal. Then, I worsten my condition, by thinking that love doesn’t even exist to begin with and why would I want a partner anyway. No love doesn’t exist.
I’m not particularly attached to people and if I am I rationalize it, always separate your feelings from your thoughts. That’s what I do. It’s shitty but I can’t stop myself, I’m quite the hypocrite but that is fine with me, I’m not attached to morality, I only conform to it not to have problems and because many things I couldn’t do or don’t feel the desire to. People usualy think I care more than I do, I have this one “friend” that thinks it took long enough for her to get me to say I was attached to her, 1 year, that’s ridiculously short, I said that to have peace. She is replaceable to me, I don’t even find her interesting, as I don’t find myself interesting, people aren’t annoying to me, they just are, just like me. Though there are people I do appreciate I always know they don’t really matter to me, I can get a little bit attached but I am way too aware of the inconsistancy of my feelings, which are nothing but a complex system designed for whatever the reason there is behind the desire for survival of humans, just maybe fun. I am probably saying banalities but what else could I say. I am also often aware of why I appreciate them, which is more than often a selfish reason but that is fine. We’re selfish and that’s ok.
The only moments when you feel good is when you indulge in something without thinking, like erotic encounters, or when you drink alcohol. There is a boy I quite like and I am aware that if I feel this positively about him and am this attracted is because I want to indulge in this kind of erotic encounter with him, and I know I’m quite perverted but that’s because that’s the only thing that feels fun right now, the only reason it’s him and not anyone else is because he looks empty, and I am attracted to people who look empty. I can’t pin down what my body does when it’s in love and I don’t want to think about it but I can’t stop. I can never stop thinking unless I indulge in pleasure of alcohol.
Often I find myself in a weird crisis where I make weird movements and have strange images going through my head, I control all of this, it’s an activity like any other but it feels better than all other activities. Except maybe walking without pupose in a restricted space or crying. Crying always feels good, I do love to cry, I love to cry. I also love bruises, I love bruises, I love the fact that they’re dysfunctionments and they hurt, but not too much, I love wounds. Things that hurt are good, but not too much, just enough for you to feel that there’s depth in them. Sometimes I think I’m too weird to be loved and nobody would handle my desires, yet I think I’m so banal, I don’t think I’m interesting, I do the same things everyone does, maybe I try to be different, maybe by admiting to be banal I try to be different. Thinking too much usually ends up with this kind of reasoning, I don’t even care about this, but I think about it anyway, I think about too many things.
Even writing this note now feels unsatisfying and I can’t express anything worth expressing.
I have no really good friends and im sick of it. I try to see what the problem is and the only thing I can think of is that I dont “pop out” like everyone else does. Everyone has something special about them. Not me, Im just a boring, depressed person who dosent have friends. I dont blame people that they dont like to talk to me. Also, everyone that I know has had at least 1 boyfriend before, but me. I know im not popular but seriously. I feel unloved. It feels like I have a dark pit in my heart because Ive been neglected by everyone. Im just not special and nobody like me. Nobody has ever felt any attraction to me either. Am I that horrible of a person? Even my friends dont think im interesting.
Is it possible to actually die of boredom? I’m desperately hoping so. For the past few months, it’s been just so boring. School is a waste of time. I get all A’s, a B, and a C. I spend the day learning useless factoids that will never be necessary in later life, and then maybe go home and play music, and then just watch TV and eat ice cream before going to bed. Then, the game begins again. The weekends are just a continuation of my after-school activity, and they’re boring too because I remember that school is a day or so away. I have no friends. Sure, I talk to people casually, but I don’t connect with anyone. I guess people think they connect with me, but no one just gets it. It’s just all so meaningless and pointless. At this point, death would be a welcome gift.
Most days I am so horribly bored. Do I ever need a bloody job! Not that jobs in general are a lot of fun, but anything’s gotta be better than sitting on my a** all day. Or going into town, killing time, no one to see, escaping into the internet on my smartphone, just ‘out’ for the sake of being out and because I cannot stand being cooped up on my own anymore.
I should not be contemplating suicide out of boredom! This is not a good reason (and is actually not mine). Work is a necessary evil in this world, it’s just the way it is. It’s not good to have nothing to do. Maybe some nice person will ask me about hobbies and what I like to do. Well, we can’t count the internet, I like to eat, and drink coffee and tea, that’s really about it to be honest. Oh in the old days I would read books, how I loved books, I would love to cook vegan food, I’d go to yoga class or even the gym or for long walks in nature, I’d enjoy going to the cinema, even on my own, and I wrote a blog.
I’m so depressed now that I find little enjoyment in anything, so it doesn’t seem worthwhile.
And yes I’ve got voluntary work but it’s only 5 hours a week. That’s not gonna be enough. I need to find more. And I attend a class one day a week.
It’s pathetic at my age (52) to complain of being bored like some spoilt child.
So I’ve picked up the hobby of researching and discussing various methods of suicide.
I know no one will reply to this. I already have my own answers. There is no excuse for being bored really. I took some powder to feel better…now I don’t care so much about being cut adrift from society.
This isn’t really something I usually do, I’m more of the “bottle it up” kind of guy, but I really need to get this out and Google led me here as an appropriate place to do so. It’s up to you if you want to read all this, but at least if you do, I have some validation of my efforts. Which I imagine would be nice.
Well… here goes.
I should be happy or satisfied enough really, shouldn’t I?
I mean, I did life right. I left school, got a steady dead end job and got myself a place to live independently. In this tough economic climate, that’s a real fucking achievement apparently. Or at least that’s what everyone keeps telling me. But I can’t seem to gain any joy or even a modicum of satisfaction from it all. It all feels so sodding pointless.
I am waiting to die. That is the reality of it all. All of my achievements are worthless because I don’t care about them and nobody will remember them. Not that I really care about what others think or feel about me at this point. I’ve only met two people in my entire life who I could truly relate to and both died.
I’ve had relationships and a fair bit of meaningless sex, though I’ve never truly loved another person. This rather tragically includes my family. My parents are “there” I guess, but we don’t really see each other all that often since I moved out of my Mum’s house. I just could never emotionally attach to them, even as a child. I guess it didn’t help that they spent the majority of my youth arguing. The end result is I’m in a self perpetuating cycle of loneliness and recessiveness. I want someone to talk to and to be around but I hide away because it’s easier. I’m no good in social situations and I’m often ignored. This is partly because I try not to go outside and largely because my mind is a frazzled dick-shaft of a mess and that anything that comes out of my mouth is usually so cringe inducingly stupid or inappropriate that I just make everyone feel either nervous or awkward.
I escape reality through drink and books, though I can’t drink enough to achieve alcoholism due to crippling, anxiety related stomach pains. I’m on a pharmacy’s worth of medication as it is.
It’s just all so fucking tedious. Plain and simple. We waste the best years of our lives in education and work. It’s not worth it. The only thing keeping me going these last few years was a fear of “what comes next”.
Maybe it’d be easier if it was some kind of pact where I wouldn’t be alone but I don’t think that happens outside of comics and movies.
I think I’m ready to cross the line now though.
If you took the time read all of this, thank you for doing so. I can only apologize for taking up your precious time.
Please I ask of thee, but listen to me and tell me ,if Iam mad. Life around us is in toil and pain ,sleep is short. Leaving me alone, to pounder the ifs and whatâ€™s ,where and why. when is my mine ever Â going to see peace in my waking day . Was I born this way? to walk amuck the stranger an imperfect human. Mocking my way, and wondering. who is that strange person. Â Nor do I look and ask the same, from my point of view. Long Days and Nights have past. Â has it gone ,what is it that I am supposed to do. Do I become richer, do I lose my way ,and bring harm upon myself or others. What purpose do I server.? but to breath and eat and what ?Â Â Imagine Â once , of a thing, do it.
Or become a drone in the system and walk amuck the living dead. Up at 6 ,work by 9 lunch at 1 and home by 6.trained to the wheel. Alone in a crowd , with everyone else so broken we have nothing else.Â So, break the wheel ,and walk where no others have been before.Â Go to where the world has no power over you.Â be at peace, to rest to the egde of death its self ? is that the way. Can it be so simple?. The world is gone. Free from the wheel and its task upon you. Peace, but retreat ,wait ,the world need me. I need them. From nothing comes nothing. Ive been trained ,I canâ€™t stop I canâ€™t break free. I am caught in the wheel never to escape. Â Back to living, is that it? Is that what you call it? The years of back breaking work an your only offer a week or two of vacation to do what? Â Oh ,ok than its Â Monday your up at 6 an still chained to the wheel. Then you remember, Â Who you are ,but what am I to do, today? Bye Friday night our mine is in full function mood, than you starts to feel panic sitting in and your days of the wheel are coming closer to you .Â Sunday comes and your ready for anything, and Monday 6 oâ€™clock and your back. Yes back to Boredom. Putting on your drone face and setting about your work. Always the same, thing Â becoming the same. People asking. Will how was it? In a look of surprise you reply. Nothing big? Oh, ok.
If I where rich what a story I could tell, but poor and middle class Oh. Well, Than let your imagination run with your soul ,let life give you a hand ,and explore. Living. But thatâ€™s a dream isnâ€™t it . At night I cling to the covers of my bed waiting for it to happen. And then I am gone, for an instant, there in the darkness is peace. No more wheels, no more chains, no more problems. Â A place called heaven, free from the issue of the day. Free from the responsibility of life. Peace. Then with a shock the bell rings and your torn away from it. Forced to obey the rules an play the social games one plays. Whoâ€™s is on First, whatâ€™s on second, and where is at third. Â So where is my place? Â Sociaty has placed me hear Â high in the hills ,overlooking the village. With many people who think the same as I think. Â Is it a hospital, Is it a retirement home, Is it pension. Time stops, hear. Drugs and wandering in between this world and the next, searching for only one place we all long for. A place where there is no fear or pain, a place where there are no temptation to live in life. But to have a life and live for it. Â Freedom Â ,to create anything. That you could imagine. Especially the thought of PEACE, something, from somewhere who knows .Where it is? Or how deep must one go to reach it? Can I change reality? To its simplest form. An live, to experience it. Peace. To be able to relish, in the feeling Of Peace. Wanting ,more, to return to it. like a drug passing though your veins ,you feel the place your looking for. Peace be itâ€™s a simple phase to which a meaning so great, that the depths of your soul could be seen for the very first time, you could see life. Youâ€™ll be able to answer that old question. Is this it. Is there no more to know?
Peace itâ€™s so fragile it looks as glass, or smoke in the Â air. Moving like a flowing rivers. Yet, the beginning of the knowing of time has now found you ,and now we see time chasing you from behind. Â Life and the end become oh so too clear. That the unknown will be forced upon you, and thereâ€™s nothing anyone canÂ do to turn it back, you have no doubts about it. You know it. Your sprite sense this. Fear and from its lose of controls and the wheel run deep into your core. Â Faces passing in the night are strangers to me now. The veil of peace creep on to my bed and the sleep is beautiful . NO more what ,where and how . Freedom from the pressure of your lungs having to breath in or out. the rest you feel as you leave. Â Peace descends upon you like a weight being lifted off your chest, then, what. we truly believe covers are fear and its just across the street. Truth ,without a veil, peace.
Will Is it like the bible of man says Â Â Or was it just a book written to control man. Which is it? . Is it the reality of darkness, than the end ,nothing?Â ,or could it be everything we hope and prayed ,will are faith bring us to are creator. Or maybe inside this space we have created to dream of life and live it. You know .They say some of us are very old, they say that they have been on both planes before.Â Â Â Just let us blink, and the life of a star, can fade, away and then weâ€™ll begin this all over again.Â But iam with E=mcs. It would be amazing to move as light inside space, that you could feel for light years at your finger tips with your mines eye. Focused ,on the feeling of peace. So hunger is the feeling so deep so clear. But you begin to dream, surround yourself with everything..but what is there eles ,if one knows everything.
To be born again,to be born..But with this act you are banningÂ from freedom, your life,Â rippedÂ away from your soul and place in a shell once more from the peace you cameÂ but no memory ,without the knowing After a time this too comes back ,boring .this yearning comes back for Peace ,like before,Â the cycle is Â again complete. The end is near. Â why is it at every funeral you hear the words (From ash to ashâ€™s (from the star we have come) Dust to dust( from this world to the next we travel to rest and fine Peace. These Famous Â killer like GREED,PRIDE,AMBITIONÂ these three horse man ride over the plains ruling are world .kill are child, rape the land and call it profit, Yet they are clean, older souls that have claimed their way. They are too powerful, and they have many barriers that protect them ,they live in the mirror world, of peace. They can touch, they can feel the air around them, but the wheel is at their back ,moving them along the track. Millions billions whatever the figure thereâ€™s still at the wheels mercy , remember the wheel.Â Staying ahead of the wheel and living is the trick not life. Like the man in the picture you remember Â Sir Doran Grey never growing old . Never drop the frame ? Stay ahead of the wheel. Â Â But when you look back an see the face of time.Â WillÂ you fear the cloud from your heart .See all from the hearts mind. Once more back on to your life what do you see? A struggle, whatâ€™s else, have I done. , Have I done enough ,like Â water it runs out of my mines heart ,like a river in viewÂ ,Or haveÂ you betrayed yourself and taken life and done nothing.Â Â Forget it, your Human now, you can forget it . Itâ€™s a built in system to coop, with lose. Things we donâ€™t want to remember . But now itâ€™s our turn at the wheel and I wonder witch path shall I take, Or does it matter.
W r i t e n b y
before , I would always say that I was bored doing something from time to time .looking back from now I realize that I diddnt know a thing about being bored.now in my current life I am always bored…its kind of difficut to explain. I am emotionally numb except for those weird moments where I feel sadness.sometimes I feel so sad that I want to cry but I cant. I cant cry, most of my laughter is false and other emotions just arent there.without my emotions ,I am just a soulless body and that is why my current life is so damn boring. I wake up and I see the same things and feel the same way about them. on the rare occasion I do something different , I don’t get surprised it really like I am a soulless body.
being this bored and boring is starting to take a toll on me I always thought about suicide as a way to escape this boredom. like many others ,I tried to cut myself before.I actually felt like I was existing. for once I felt scared and pussied out of harming myself completely. the knife left a few scratches. after that all I feel is fear for the future( my life is a lot more complicated than this) along with my numbness. nowadays, I just fall in and out of depression. its stressing. I’m too young for this.
These emotions,,, or lack of them, they are just as bad as physical pain. This boredom is horrible, adderalls doing the opposite of what it should be and i dont know why: i have no desire to do yoga, make cookies. talk to anybody or ill feel agitated and extremely anxious and robotic like(not fun) i am unable to genuinely laugh or smile or even sing without.
I want to feel joy for one, sweet lasting feelings of wellbeing, confidence, desire. 🙁
Rules are made to enslaveÂ boredom is there to tell you it’s time to change the viewÂ i just want to find the cheat codes so i can fly
everytime i turn on the tv i feel like smashing the roomÂ i hate to work and be taxed because people i don’t know are having it a little worse then meÂ all i find are lies dyed in virtueÂ i hate this world because a hero gets a bullet in the head and the villain gets a medal
SomeoneÂ else has to tell me how to live because god said so or half the people elected a puppet.My family doesn’t know shit about me and theyÂ try to hold me as a hostage on this world because they will miss my image.All my friends have found their path.
So here’s an idea if you’re tired and friendless find some kindred spirits chose a spot and begin a new life of fun when you’re bored throw a party and aim for the sky.
i feel so stuck in this life, school, work, homework, boredom. my “friends” never have time to hang out so the only interaction i get is with my boyfriend and fake friends who only use me for my cigarettes or money. i yearn for an adventurous life but it just seems impossible. i have no major in college because none of them interest me and i can no longer imagine a future for myself. i have terrible social skills so making new friends is next to out of the question.. i see other people laughing and having a good time and my envy enrages me, why cant my life be like theirs? why cant i be as skinny as when i starved myself? i dont want this life anymore but im stuck with it because i am a coward.
ive realized everytime something is bout to make me wanna die, a couple days before i rearrange my room so 3 days ago i changed my room: my bed is up against my window, my dresser pushed against my closet my trash can in the middle of the room and nightstand nearly up against my door. kinda crazy but whatever. i thought i rearranged outa boredom now i noticed when i do so a couple days later something makes me very depressed. hmm could this just be a coincendence or maybe is this pattern tryin to tell me something.
32 years my body will have been alive this summer 2012. Yet I am within this body, this machine of meat and bone and I feel nothing. I’ve always been like this. Flitting between crushing boredom and suicidal depression. I have never enjoyed anything and have never felt happy. I am so tired of struggling day by day. I gave up faking the normal attitude people and society expect from us years ago. I couldn’t do it anymore. It was after this that I was finally diagnosed with Aspergers Syndrome. Looking back now it all fits into place. But this is a suicide help board not an Aspergers board. So I will leave that part to the side.
Since I was 8 years old I have been fighting depression and a strong desire to end my life. It’s wearing me down every day. I look outside and feel nothing, the trees, sky, homes, people etc aren’t real and may as well be a poor excuse for a black and white movie in my eyes. Even my own body I feel disconnected from. I am so tired of fighting it. It’s only a matter of time before I end my life. It could be today, it could be another 30 years from now. All I know is that my life will end by my own hand.
How do you live when nothing feels real? When nothing matters? Not even yourself. I just want to sleep…
I always have great imagination, i can simulate what’s going to happen in the near future
but what i see is always a dull boring life, of course i also tried challenging and less predictable activities like mountain climbing and ruins exploring, but in the end nothing happened and i went back to my boring life
I always wished i would just kick the bucket during one of my journeys, but to no avail. I have always survived and while it was a refreshing experience, the excitement won’t last even for a day, daily life is just too boring god……..
as much as i wished for a “switch off” button, it would be okay if i only just have a “skip”/”fast forward” button
I’ve experienced them all, school, work, love, friendship, etc. I noticed that many members of this site are young boys and girls usually with a problem of interpersonal relationship, then i need to tell you all, past that, hell is waiting, hell that is called boredom
I hardly have any reason to live anymore, i mean what is considered reason for living?
money? – I’ve saved enough, i wouldn’t need them where i’m going though, never like money so much
love? – it’s nice when it lasts, left her when i was feeling suicidal
friends? – quite many, almost everyday hanging out with them, but they are content with their lives now, they still think i’m weird for worrying about weird stuffs but they don’t leave me
family? – a loving family who believe in me, might as well opt out now before i degrade even more
movie? – keep living because you want to watch a movie that will be released next year? i realized that they will not stop producing movies, not worth as a reason for living
in a sense, it’s a blessed life, but I still feeling suicidal, it’s like i’m a broken human, nothing excites me anymore, no one can read my expression anymore, they said it’s a perfect poker face
I think only a war scale event can make me feel alive now, if it’s not going to happen, might as well kill myself now, before my mind is breaking
I decided to start fasting to try to make my tits shrink. Though I think I’ll likely give up and start eating again, mostly because of boredom and hunger pains. Currently I’m trying to apply and smell essential oils frequently because your sense of taste and smell are connected so smelling essential oils acts as kind of like a substitute for eating. Also I’m focusing on the traumatic experiences I’ve endured in the past and the things about me (my body, brain, etc) and my life I’m ashamed of to distract myself from food. Does anyone have any tips to make not eating for a long period easier?
I stop, just as I opened the door to my home. I stop to look at the cracks on the walls, Like the gnarly veins of some geriatric hand. They a mere sign of age, of foreboding, some harbinger of ultimate failure. I smile and jar the door open. My home makes light of its name, There is no smell of baking bread, no fire place, No patter of claws along wooden floorboards. It is a room, my single bed lengths the right wall. Theres some other small items that sit in the remaining space, secondhand table and chains, a horrid couch spatters with paint, scars from its former life. Its wednesday, one of the wednesdays in late november.
The 10 months I’ve spent within these walls have been soft. Nothing stands out, nothing breaks the line. All smooth. I am in my mid twenties but feel older, ‘life lasts longer when filled with periods of boredom and discomfort’ 25 feels long for some reason. I drink on wednesdays. I spend some hours in the shop and after work I return and drink. Mostly alone, some times with company. Both feel uncomfortable at times.
I have emotional problems, according to a therapist. I might, something is wrong, I’m certain of that. I try to reflect on my actions and feeling and it resolves nothing. I drift from perspective to irrational actively, It seems to operate in a cyclical fashion. It gets worse and it gets better and after a while it gets worse again. I think of death. It sits as an unlocked door in my head, I toyed passively for years with it. Ive pushed at it. Not hard enough though. Some thing holds it, maybe.
I don’t even know why I’m here right now, I just don’t know what to doÂ anymore. I hear nothing but the same everyday,Â tedious, asinine commentary that hums along relentlessly. I have no one to talk to about anything remotely real or of any interest to me. I don’t care about anything; I just want this to be over.Â All I’m capable of feeling is misery, zombie-like boredom andÂ some fake short-lived ecstacy . I just have no appreciation for life; absolutely nothing makes me feel genuinely happy. I’ve lived my life in those brief moments, however fleeting, and once I come down I only feel worse than before. I just want to talk to someone who knows what it’s like to feel like an alien in your own body; who knows how it feels to sob to the point of breathlessness over absolutely nothing; who knows how it feels to lieÂ staring at the wallÂ for days unable find the will to move; who knows how it feels to be on topÂ of the world andÂ who knows what it feels like when you suddenly fall. I want to be able to say how I feel without sounding like a complete moron or a whiny little ***** but I don’t know what it’s like to feel human. I don’t care about anythingÂ becauseÂ nothing feels real.
Anyway…sorry for complaining, I’m very drained today :P. But I feel like I’ve built a family-I’ve-never-met here and since I can’t talk to anyone else, here I am. Hopefully I’ll be out soon and no one will have to listen to me anymore. For now I just don’t know.
Do you love your Cat? Do you love any music? Do you love to write? Do you love a good movie? Even if you answer no at this moment to any of those questions, is the answer yes at other times? Depression is like having your outlook switch switched to negative and the only way you can see your world is thru glasses of boredom or hate. This is not the Full and Real You…it’s like a mean alter ego that’s trying to destroy you…don’t let it! You can outlast the depression monster, and other folks are here to help u do that! Just keep writing, listening, watching, and surviving .♥
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