I learned today that NFL cheerleaders only earn about $70-90 per game, “elite” ones earn more. They only make $1000 to $2,500 per season, more if they make public appearances. That really surprised me. I guess it’s like being a cop or a firefighter or a teacher. You do it because you like it, not because you want to get rich.
We are all created to make our own decisions whether to allow or not ourselves to experience loneliness, anger and despair.
I have always easily pondered on my pain (physical and emotional). I am human so I will always regress but I also know the truth- that I am important, you are important. Even though I do not know any of you who visit these boards, I love you and want you to know that your life, your existence is very important. I have struggled with losing family, people I knew in nursing homes and through documentaries of those in Hospice. You may not know or believe that we are all linked and my purpose in this life is to love and give of my heart for as long as God allows my humanly body to survive the earth. I do not know if you believe in a God, a higher being the Almighty “I Am,” but what if, just what if there is a loving spirit waiting for us one day who asks us to think of ourselves as precious? Our choices and decisions are very important. We are going to fail, to fall but the struggle for us is not in giving up, but going through the pains of this life for a greater good – the ultimate gift, salvation for eternity. I have pain every day but I won’t give up trying to persevere. It is the struggle itself that makes us whole. Knowing that life is hard for everyone. I once had pain so bad after my last c-section but I realized that there were babies dying from hunger around the world and pain beyond belief for many. It was then that I was happy just to be alive and in knowing that my children need me desperately. For if I am not there, I can not assume someone else will be. We have these crosses, these hardships to make us stronger. I am so sorry if I sound like I am preaching. I am simply trying to get my deepest heartfelt emotions out because I believe that ending ones life is not in the greater plan for a fruitful outcome. Never allow you to be that upset that you would want to hurt someone so precious.Â I know that you believe that your pains are insurmountable but together and with God, we can overcome anything.Â I am here if anyone ever needs to talk. Thanks for reading 🙂 God’s Blessing for you!
It gets better. Suck it up. That’s not something to end your life over. Live goes on.
Fuck you. That’s my summed up answer to that.
I don’t want your correcting, I don’t want your tone policing, or any “it gets better” shit. What I want is for people to understand and respect my choices and emotions and feelings. Stop telling the victim to change, and start actually listening.
Every interaction with any to-be friends becomes a disaster when this comes up. I trigger from it. And they don’t even respect the trigger and go “Sorry, I won’t say that again”. They just call or think me irrational. And so I barely have any friends or people I can talk to. Because explaining why I’m triggered or suicidal or depressed over and over and over again is hard. I don’t think they get it. “But its normal to expect anÂ answer why” Yeah but it is not healthy to expect things of me that is hard to do. You want to be a good friend, respect me. Let me say it if I want and you can handle it, but don’t expect me to pour out all the ache for you and dish out explanations to why its triggery. Because its hard to explain, and its triggering just having to explain after the 15th time. So give me a break and go “Okay, I respect your triggers. If you ever feel like telling me then its okay and I will listen”.
I just hate when people will tell me they will be supportive and be a good friend when they disrespect my triggers, and dismiss my feelings by telling me to “suck it up”, and telling me my life is not my own to choose the life span of. I mean that’s just beyond discouraging, getting friends who turn out to trigger you and push all your buttons and don’t respect your answers and feelings. It just makes the whole thing worse.
Omg, like I’m mad paranoid. I’m paranoid to even be writing this right now. I feel like everyone is against me. Like my life is the Truman Show. I struggle and misery is my best friend, it’s like after awhile you enjoy the pain. A sort of frenzy begins to happen. I’m just really in a dark place. I feel like music is talking to me and sending me subliminals from my boyfriend. This happened before with someone else I cared for. It’s like I’m getting all these subliminals and signs from everything. I’m always freaking out and no one knows. No one knows what I go through. My life is a complete horror movie. But why do we like the pain? Is it because we can really and deeply feel this pain? I don’t understand. But I haven’t really talked to my family today because I feel like their being sketchy. This doesn’t happen everyday but these feelings come and go. Sometimes I wanna run away from myself. I couldn’t even sleep last night. I been having these real and vivid dreams.. Maybe it’s from the seroquel? My dreams are more real than my reality. I’m even scared in my dreams. Is there a Heaven? Can God take this all away from all of us who are suffering?
The other day I decided to get high and I was buggin’ out. I felt like I was playing in a movie and had to make choices of how I wanted to live my life. Would it be having a kid with my boyfriend? Being stuck in front of the tv and Internet screens or playing videos? There was even a part where there was a whole section on the holy bible and God. I was completely buggin’ out and I thought I was gonna die. I thought weed would help my anxiety but it completely induced it more. ughhhhh. and then I felt like when I was in the car and listening to that song “I love it” by Icona Pop, that it was gonna be my death song. I truly felt like I was gonna crash my car into a bridge. Omg.
But yeah, I feel so alone. I can’t tell anyone cause I’m afraid there gonna know that I know they are being sketchy. I’m thinking of seeing another psychologist but I don’t know, I don’t trust it. I don’t trust anything.
Reasons to commit suicide
- IÂ don’tÂ love myself or self hatred
- I have low self esteem
- I lost all my friends
- irreversibly damaged reputation and social standing with family
- future is bleak
- No ambition or motivation to set goals
- So much regret for pass choices and decisions
- inability to forgive myself and move on
- credit score is in the trash
- hard to get and keep a job and contribute financially to household
- burden on family members
- I hate living day to day repeating the same shit (eat,shit,sleep,wake-up,repeat)
- I hate being weak
- I am fearful of what my future will most likely become (homeless,broke,ostracized,lonely etc)
- Pain of remembering the past and unable to return
- I hate knowing I am a failure in life
- To get rid of all my pain
- given up hope that things will get better
- life and its bullshit is fuckin pointless
Reasons to live
- family would be hurt
- wouldn’t see NCIS anymore
My reasons to live are not really a deterrent to suicide. Any death is painful and my family would eventually heal and get on with their lives. I watch NCIS most days its on and its a good show but I really could give a fuck about a fake T.V show because it doesn’t help me in any way. Â I don’t have much to live for
A lot of people say that Suicide is cowardly. I disagree. The one thing that is a constant source of apprehension and fear in humanity, is death. No one knows what happens when you die. Is there an after life? A heaven or a hell? Are we reborn? Or do we simply disappear?
Many of us are preoccupied with our own death and the preparations there of. We write Wills years in advance, we buy life insurance, we go to church and pray in hopes that through redemption we will obtain a better place in the afterlife that may or may not exist. We as humans fear death. It is something that we can not explore, we can not collect any data on or conduct any experiments on with any type of accuracy. It will forever remain a mystery.
Those who choose Suicide are not cowardly, they have chosen to dive head first into the source of the greatest uncertainty of death. In my mind, the choice to die is one of the most brave choices one can make. While I agree that Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, it is not a cowards choice. It is often a choice of desperation and despair but it is not a choice made out of fear. To call the act of Suicide a coward discredits and ignores the human relationship with death.
Suicide to me 4 months ago seemed like only something I would hear in long hours of health class or something that would never affect me. Living in a small town of about 7,000 people you would only hear things along the line of sporting events or town meetings. Never anything about death. Until March 13th, 2012, I was sitting in the recliner debating whether or not i should go to church that night. I decided not to because I wanted to relax for the night. My step dad and I were watching TV when all of sudden we look outside to see 2 cars pull in our driveway. This was very strange because it was 8o’ clock on a Wednesday night and we lived in the middle of nowhere. While trying to gather all my thoughts my step dad answered the door. There was 2 police officers standing there. They asked for me and some basic information about myself. I honestly thought they were there because of something stupid I did at school. Until I they said the never forgetting words of your father has committed suicide at his apartment this morning. I totally fell where I was standing. I was lost, shocked, and confused. Wondering why my father would take his life and leave his 14 year old daughter. Not ever physically being able to be there for my graduation(s), to walk me down the aisle at my wedding and to just plain never be able to see each other ever again. I needed answers but the terrible thing about suicide is there are no answers. You leave all your loved ones to wonder why, what could i have done, and why me, just because of a selfish act. My father and I hadnâ€™t talked since Christmas because every time I saw him for a few short days or talked to him on the phone he could never put aside his problems and just talk to me. He was always in pain. He was the true definition of depressed now that I have stepped out of my denial stage and see the whole picture. I was left with all the responsibilities since I inherited everything and I was the one to make the choices. Picking out cards, what I wanted to do with his body, funeral plans, everything. From being a care free teen just a short day ago to making all these decision along with grieving my fatherâ€™s death. It has been hardest thing that I have ever had to do. No one should ever be affected by suicide itâ€™s selfish to you and your family. Life is a precious gift and we can’t take it for granted. People do care about you even though you might not think that. If youâ€™re having a bad day realize that the next day WILL BE BETTER. I could not express more on talking to people about your problems and get help. People will listen to you and the pain will go away if you get help. It has affected my life so much and I dearly miss my father. There is not a damn day that goes by that I don’t think about him. If you need someone to talk to I will listen email me at firstname.lastname@example.org. PEOPLE DO CARE!
I ruinedmy life with bad choices, poor academic decisions, bad financial decisions, and dishonesty. When I met my husband and gave birth to our beautiful sweet babies I was so sad. Sad because all at once I knew I would never be worthy of this gift I was given because of my past mistakes.
I have devoted 10 years of counseling to my bullshit, with multiple explanations that the attention seeking and erratic behavior from age 18-23 was linked to feeling worthless at home, feeling powerless, bla bla. I don’t blame anyone but myself. The best way I can explain it is that I was crazy and on drugs. I don’t even remember solid months of my life. Now that I have left the behavior behind, I’m left with crippling guilt and regret. I wish I had considered the future and the importance of a good reputation. I can’t come to terms with my past and it has ruined my future.
Every night I hope I don’t wake up. I wanted to do it before the youngest’s first birthday but part of me wants to wait. I think even though I want the pain to stop I am not fully brave enough to say “Today is my freedom day.”
Life just sucks. My kids give me moments of joy but it’s generally just the realization that I’m not a good person, and without a million dollars in the bank I’m not ever going to dig out of this bottomless pit of stress and despair.
I think on the last day I will be relieved. I will make sure the kids are off with someone I love and trust, away from the house. I might pray. Leave a note. Then hopefully step off that great ledge and go quietly into sleep.
IÂ need something real do you know how I feel? This life is like living in shades of gray. You hold on so tight and then close your eyes but all you can feel is the life of a knife. I want some hope and I try to cope with my pain. I try to help others but not helping myself is driving me insane. My best friends left because of their selfish ways they cant understand the choices ive made. They say its my problem life is to good to be sad but thats because they dont have a sickness driving them mad. I need something real does anyone understand what I feel?
I found this site about a year ago on my sister’s laptop. She was 15 then, and it was exactly three weeks before her 16th birthday. She’d declined my parents the joy of setting up a “sweet 16” party for her, because she didn’t want to give them the joy of setting it up. Then on her 16th birthday, she killed herself. I never got to ask her about the site, or why she always did everything she could to make our parents angry, now it doesn’t even matter. I don’t know if she had an account, I only know the site appeared on her history almost everyday for 6 months straight.
Pretty much, my sister and I had always been stark opposites, but I’d always thought she was amazing. She was exactly who she wanted to be, and her choices weren’t anyone else’s business. Defying our parents, breaking school rules almost daily, being famous in our town (or infamous, depending on who you ask). She dyed her hair bright orange and lime green when she was 12. And got a tattoo of a butterfly when she was 13. Both times she forged our dad’s signature. Both times they said nothing, only glaring at her and very obviously lecturing me about all the harmful chemicals that can get into your system when you get a tattoo or dye your hair.
They always treated her like a bad example. Laice, sweety, just don’t end up smoking like Katelynn did. Please, keep your grades up, otherwise you won’t have a future and will do badly in high school like Katelynn. Don’t act like Katelynn or people will start spreading rumors about our family again. To be honest, I didn’t think anything Katelynn did was bad. I admired her for it. Even if the whole world screams at me, for being stupid, and says I should listen to my parents because they know what they’re doing, I don’t agree. But I still do it. I still do exactly what my parents want me to. Always. I don’t break rules, the school makes new rules just to see how far I’ll go before breaking. I never will. I’ll always be a puppet, following the motions mommy and daddy make with their hands, controlling me.
I’ll always have the friends from my church, the ones who will never break a rule, and always get top grades in the school. I won’t ever change, not because I don’t want to. Because I can’t. I think my parents took Katelynn’s death the wrong way. They didn’t shed a tear, only looked at me and got angry, saying how I better not be planning the same thing. It was the harshest they’d ever been with me. I seriously doubt they’re even mentally stable at this point. I can’t tell anyone about it though. The whole town is shaken up by “the incident”. They refuse to even say Katelynn’s name anymore. See I live in one of those “small towns” where everyone knows everyone else, and secrets are only a dream.
And in case anyone is wondering, I’m posting this from my great aunts house. My parents monitor my computer and cellphone. They don’t give me any privacy. I’ve even caught my mom reading my diary. My great aunt, even though she’s a bit strange, she’s tougher than any of the folks in my town. She’s like one of those “feisty old woman” types. She tells me all about her “theories” as to why Katelynn killed herself, and I love listening to them. Since she was a psychologist back in the day, she comments a lot on people’sÂ behavior. It’s best being with her, since she can tell when someone is faking.
Well that was intro-y enough. Sorry If I’ve offended people by my “un-suicidal-ness” Â If you had to rank people on a scale of “suicide threat” I’d be a level 0.0000000000000001, as in, a snowballs chance in hell. I just really wanted to post about my sister, since I can’t exactly re-tell my aunt all the stories I have about her. And I guess I’ve gotten frustrated with my parents and “situation”.
It helps to talk on here about my bad experience at college. Not only was the bullying embarrassing, but what hurt even more is how my father bullied me and his unrealistic, amoral, and unethical definitions of success. I hated that year of my life and I hated being psychologically bullied.
I feel like at college, I was a completely different person than I was at the amusement park. At the amusement park, I moved out of my parents’ house and said “This is my thing that I have looked forward to all my life. I want to be here and I am going to make it work.” At college, I felt like my parents had regained control over my life. My only choices of major they gave me were doctor, lawyer, or engineer. The first two I had never shown any kind of interest in and the third I was never interested in except for when I was about nine and still getting attention for being “the smart kid”. It had nothing to do with my interests or abilities. It was all about what made them look good or feel good about themselves.
There were also a lot of good people at college, like the majority of them. Likewise with anywhere I went. Don’t hone in on a few losers with low self-esteem who tried to bandage their insecurity by kicking someone who was already down. Screw them. If life dishes out problems to anybody, it is people like them who deserve it.
I would say I had a terrible childhood. But it wouldn’t be true. I wasn’t popular, but never severely bullied either. I was your normal nerd, with good grades (but not too good), few friends and a passion for books. And that’s everything I remember from then.
When I was about 15, I started to understand the world. I felt frustrated by not having answer to some questions, and started looking deeper into myself and into the world. I rationalized everything, and got a working schema of reality. I thought that was all, and was anxious to get that knowledge to the rest of the people. For a few years, I fell deeper into my rational understanding of the world, and out of the “normal” world of feelings.
I got to control love itself. Happiness, sadness, as I understood them, I lost the ability to feel them. It didn’t matter, as I had found my place in life: I was the fighter, the guide. I felt the Morfeo of the world. Whatever you think of this, understand that for me it was fulfilling, having such a great mission.
About one or two years ago everything changed. Don’t think that my world collapsed. It didn’t. I found the last part of my philosophy, the last piece of the puzzle. As I understood that “purpose” was something that man invented, I understood that life itself cannot have a “purpose”. There is no basis for good and bad, for better or worse. Every choice is as good as the others. There is no reason to live (neither to die).
I’m currently driving down this slope of craziness. It’s getting more difficult to think, to make any decision, to keep going. I rationalized my feelings, lost them, and now my mind doesn’t have any basis for applying reasoning. Reason is good to get you what you want -but you need something to want.
I don’t know if I’ll (actively) kill myself. But if nothing changes, I think I’ll just let myself die.
I understood the world, and now it doesn’t matter anymore. I have all the choices, but no reason to make any of them. I feel like a dead god. Now that I understand myself, I realize that some ignorance is needed to live.Â Not that living is better or worse.
I fell I only have inertia for so long.
i am so alone,
i am so lonely,
no matter which way i put it its still the same, and it doesn’t make it go away
i need love,
i crave love,
and yet i find my self alone, i find myself unloved.
i dont know what to do or say to achieve anything. so i am alone.
right now i have a stringent obsession for a girl that i will never be able to have,
due to one simple fact. she doesnt like men LOL
oh the calamity, that it so awful. i know right?
its whatever i guess, if the only thing i can be is a friend thats what ill be.
but it still sucks, and it still eats at me. but soon ill be all eaten up! (fuck you doctor suess)
i just wish one day i could wake up and know what to do. omg you lazy bastard you want a simple life?? yes, yes i do. thats for losers! well i guess im a loser
it would be simple and easy yes, but i guess it takes all the fun out of life. but how hard knocks is fun, i fail to see.
so instead i rant about pointless things when i really have harder issues to ***** about, but the hard stuffs straight forward, some how the simple things are what get under my skin the most. i really dont care anymore that my mom and step dad rage beat me or that my dad is a pointless nobody who likes to hold power over the young and ignorant, or the ones without power. that shit is explainable and its all in the past. though i may have reoccurring memories ive already lived through it once. the loneliness kills, the paranoia kills, the pain kills, the dull and dreary existence kills, the thought that some one else makes her happy and pleases her kills. its all the small things that are so great.
its just ugh! if i could go back 2 yrs in time and just run away to my friends and never went home, i would be better off, i wouldnt be lonely and ect.
but the choices you make right? all up to fate right? i dont fucking care. i just dont care. i will never ever be who i want, i will never ever get what i want and ill just be… exactly
i hate my name, i hate my face i hate my body i hate my choices in life, i hate my existence, i hate my mind, i hate time, i hate all the time.
i in reality am i nice caring guy, i tend to be a gentleman, and i can be sweet. but i see all these nasty fucking guys with all these friends and girls and shit, so i put on this persona of being just like that. and i get the title creepy. lol. yes i know its hilarious.
another thing, im a perv, and i like to flirt. but who doesn’t? but when i do do it, im a whore, bleh fuck the stereo types. im me. that’s it, just boring fucked up me.
i could write all this sappy shit about how i like her eyes, and how she has beautiful hair, or how i like her smile, i like to see her smile and make her smile and how i just want her to be happy. but it would be pointless, and probably push her away. so yeah
this is another one of my pointless rants about shit about shit with shit next to shit about shit on shit under shit with more shit about shit about shit about shit. (man you need a grammar lesson, that was one hell of a run on sentence.) go shove it grammar nazi.
this will probably go unread, and i don’t give a fuck, it feels good to write, although all i can seem to write is pointless babble. its gotten out of me and spammed sp, so i guess in effect it did something.
so it appears i came here to write about one thing and ended up on several, enjoy nonexistent reader.
Death looks pretty attractive right now.Â The other night I went up into my attic looking for some guns my parents have been hiding.Â I fell through the attic and busted up my leg pretty good.Â Needless to say I feel even worse now.Â The last two days at work I haven’t been able to stop myself from crying.Â My supervisor gave me an extremely simple straight-forward assignment and I can’t do it.Â I can’t focus or concentrate on it.Â I’m stupid and worthless and lazy.Â I don’t deserve a good career.Â I don’t even deserve a bad career.Â I deserve no career.Â I fuck up the simplest things.Â Every job I’ve ever had I’ve given up or bullshat my way through it.Â I’m the stupidest person in my graduate program.Â I want to drop out but I’m already $20,000 in debt so I feel like I need to finish it.Â Or maybe I can just die that would be nice.Â My friends are douchebags who don’t respect me.Â I don’t like them and I don’t enjoy spending time with them.Â I fantasize about killing them and then killing myself.Â All the times that I’ve felt like I was going to be okay it’s because I’ve convinced myself that things were getting better.Â That has been the case 0% of the time, so basically the only time I don’t hate myself is when I’m lying to myself.Â It’s not even like I’m a teenager, I’m 25 years old and this hasn’t passed.Â I’m not passionate about anything, nothing motivates me.Â I don’t understand how everyone else does it.Â People act like if you can’t work 120 hour weeks with a goddamn fucking smarmy ass smile on your face the whole time you’re a fucking worthless dumbass.Â I want to check myself into the hospital but then I’d have to take all my classes over again by the time I get out.Â I’d rather die instead.Â My choices are basically become a failure-to-start twenty-something who sits at home all day mooching off his parents, or die.Â Because my degree isn’t going to be worth shit when I can’t find a job because I don’t know how to charm employers.Â I know so many stupid worthless pieces of human debris who stay employed because kissing ass comes naturally.Â I dunno what else to say but fucking kill me.
I’m bad at being a person, I’m bad at being alive. I’m bad at being worth it, heck, I can’t even survive.
I’m good at being a fuck up, i’m good at being sad, i’m good at having no luck, i’m good at being bad.
there are voices, and they yell, all the choices, and stroies they tell. there are demons, In my soul, and they eat me, they eat me whole. there are tears, streaming down, filling an ocean, i hope I drown. There is blood, spilling out, I really pray that, I’m not found.
I’m bad at giving love, I’m bad at giving hope, i’m bad at being enough, I’m bad at tying rope.
I’m good at being dead, i’m good at being gone,
six feet underground, is where I belong.
there are scars, on my wrist, oh the choices, and the stories they tell, and if anyone one asks, it was the cat or I just fell. there are bandages on my heart, the heart the world tore apart. there is blood spilling out, I really pray, that I’m not found.
I’ve never been one for expressing my feelings. But in the past two years i have seen two of my closest friends pass one from an o.d and the other from a gang beating. No one was arrested for the beating and were all free. I haven’t been able to let a day go by without wishing i was them. I have thoughts of my finally moments in my head everyday now. I am bullied at schhool teased and not aloud to make my own choices. My life is run by other people and when ever i try to talk about my problems all my friends say the same thing. Its all in your head, its a phase,yur only like this cause you don’t have a job. No one takes me seriously i threated to blow my brains out to a friend and told him i would put a note on my chest saying you perdicted this. Everyone in the room laughed like it was some big jokebut it wasn’t. And to top it all off i got a father who is just the same no support just tells me to get over it be a man and suck it up. Your just trying for attention. I want to have thoughts about women money and cars like everyone else. But now all i think about are my final moments. With a gun to my head and a balloon attached to fly it away. People don’t see it cause i act normal but every time i look into my eyes i do i se a destroied kid with no emotions left and nothing to go on for.
I have decided to end it all. Almost a year and a half ago my youngest son cut me out of his life because his girlfriend didnt like the choices I made about my business. They wont talk to me nor will they allow me to see my grandchildren. They have always been close to me til now. They have lived next door to us for over 5 years until this conflict. My grandson is only 7 so untill the estrangement he always was next door. I now have a grand daughter that I dont even know or would even recongnize if I did see her. she is 1 1/2. Now my son is getting married this summer to the girlfriend that hate me so much. My oldest son loves me but keeps his distanceÂ becauseÂ of the conflict.Â Three months ago I lost my business. I am in bankruptsy. I am being audited as well. My oldest son sees me only a occationally. He hates coming around because I am so distraught over my youngest son. I dont know how to pick up and move on. I am nothing but a disappointment to everyone. I feel like everyone will be better off without me. Here is my issue. I AM GOING TO DIE VERY SOON. How do I do this without devistating my oldestÂ son. He is not close to his dad so how do I do this and know that he is going to be okay. That he and his brother willÂ be okay.
I’m surprised that people responded to my post about wanting to die probably because I’m used to being ignored when I need help the most. That’s right – ignored. It’s called growing up with a depressed, emotionally distant mother who was too preoccupied with her own problems to give her baby girl the nurturing and love she needed. Sneer if you want. Whatever. I don’t give a fuck. I’ve spent years in therapy, group therapy, on medications, making crazy, fucked up choices that intellectually I could not defend or understand yet I acted on anyway. I finally, finally put it all together: not enough of mama’s love. My dependencies, choices, desires, hopes are connected by that simple thread. I’ve been chasing my mother’s love for all of these years and sadly, Â I never got it, and truthfully, I probably never will.
The summer I was four or five I accidentally threw myself into my uncle’s pool while hurdling a huge beach ball across the water. Down, down, down I went. At least that’s how I remember it. That summer something shifted because it was the last time I remember being happy. Fast forward 25 years later and I am sitting in a therapist’s office. She asks if I’ve ever tried antidepressants. I freeze. The prospect sounded terrifying. Yet, I agreed to a psychiatric visit and shortly after that was prescribed Prozac and then the world came alive for the first time since that summer so long ago. The elation didn’t last.
I still take antidepressants to this day and they have in many ways helped me tremendously but not enough. What’s the point of all this? The point is that I’ve been depressed for a very long time. It is a chronic condition that I will have to manage for the rest of my crummy life, if it comes to that. I’ve gotten much better but at a huge price. When I finally got a handle on my depression at age 30 I slowly came see realized the havoc it had wrought. I missed out on making the CRITICAL connections and life experiences that you are suppose to make as a child and teenager that help you form into an independent adult, happy adult.
So I spent all that time, all those miserable years suffering only to discover that there was so much more work ahead, work that probably could have been avoided if I had just gotten the help I needed when I needed it instead of being IGNORED. And I ask, why did’t anyone notice that I was so sad? Why didn’t anyone DO ANYTHING????????? Yes, that question is directed at both my parents and the fucking retard adults who surrounded me.At least my dad showed affection, love, and interest even if he couldn’t admit that something was wrong with his little girl. My mother couldn’t even do that.
While one day falls into another, I only hope that this is a dream.
I’m too old for these feelings. I’m in university, doing an incredibly difficult course which I spent my whole schooling trying to get into. I chose this. I am crippled by social anxiety, so I chose to live alone. I am simultaneously envious of people who can be themselves, surrounded by friends. I chose to be like this, every decision pushing me further inside my head. I am painfully crammed inside my own skull.
Surely I’ll wake up, a happy, normal, real version of myself. Surely I’ll be able to think beyond myself.
I have seen two psychiatrists and have been prescribed antidepressants. These experiences have just been like facts to me, they have made me leap to conclusions – I have seen a psychiatrist, I am better now. I am taking medicine, I am better now. Yet, I am still unable to sleep. I wake up every morning, like a false awakening, a dream within a dream. Yet, I still can’t form the right sentences. I still can’t have the strength to accept my choices.
My dad found out about my antidepressants and that I want to change degrees. He calls me weak. He yells, disgusted. How could I be so weak? Why do I always take the easy way? Why did I even need medication? He tells me to harder up. He tells me I am a fuck up. He tells me I am weak. He tells me to harden up. Why don’t I just harden up? Weak. Weak. Weak. He tells me no. No, I should stop taking the pills, they make me even more boring. No, I cannot change degrees. I made those decisions, so therefore no. No. No.
This a dream, this is my own body. This is my own body? These are my own decisions?
I cut myself when I am 14. I have horrible dreams about scratching my skin until it breaks and I bleed. I drink and cry when I am 16. I shut off when I am 17. I don’t talk to anyone anymore when I am 18. I move when I am 19, and break down. I constantly think about how to end this spiralling dream. Jump off a cliff. Jump in front of a train. Jump off of my apartment building. Have the strength to push the blade down hard enough.
I have tried many times, but am never brave enough. Would if it doesn’t work? I’d be left to go to an institution. My whole family would know, they wouldn’t know what to say or what to do.
I have spent my whole life trying so hard for something. I don’t know what it is and am losing faith again. There isn’t anything left for me. I can’t contribute or give to anything. I am an enemy to myself, I can’t change myself.
The only thing that will have any effect on this never ending cycle is death. Death is the answer to waking up from this dream, this nightmare. As death won’t come to me, I’ll have to come to it.
I used to be suicidal too. But since 2 months ago, I have undergone a transition in my life. I am alive now. And I am really glad to share my experience to all of you who are in darkness right now.
This post is written with the sole hope to help you all, even just a bit.
Let me tell you what I did to live.
I write diary entries. Stupid, foolish entries. I wrote things which make me happy everyday. And some really useless stuffs also. “Today I drank coffee.” “Today I laughed.” “Today I am healthy.” “Today I played my favourite game.” ..etc. Trust me… really stupid stuffs, but they made me happy and grateful. So I write them down. Slowly, they become my strength. I then began telling myself: I want to wake up tomorrow so I do this again.
I made powerpoint presentations. I write stuffs to encourage myself. Foolish, I know. But you see? I want to live. i was desperate.
In the end, I read through all my diary entries. Then the realization dawned upon me. These things I wrote… are things I gain from life itself. By myself. I don’t need friends or lovers or family or any wealth. The happiness… is in myself. Just by laughing, waking up, dreaming, I slowly began loving myself. Then I started living. And that is all my happiness.
This has become my reason to hold on, stand, and fight. I want to chase my dreams. And only I myself can do it. The magic is in my own hands. No more dark nights crying alone in my room waiting for help to come. I will fight for myself.
So… for all of you… You’re the only one who can win this. Always promise to stay by your ideals, don’t abandon what you believe in. I was on the verge of dying myself, too, but I kept holding on to that one hope that maybe, just maybe, one day I might be able to save myself and break free.
No one can fulfill your wishes, but your own self. You. You have the power.
Amongst all choices… has it ever occurred to you to stand up and fight?
Some of you might feel… “I feel like I’m a chosen one, my life is so terrible while others around me are happy..” So, act like chosen ones.
Don’t expect life to be fair. This world is a twisted place.
You are the one who determines whether or not you are a wreck. Your life is hopeless because you let yourself be hopeless.
It is hard, yes, but it is not supposed to happen overnight. But you can do it, day by day, step by step.
Remember… the strength is in you. Only you can do this!
Good luck everyone.