I don’t know why I feel this way. I use to be a mellow, laid back person. I worked hard, but only if the benefits outweighed the costs. I graduated high school, got into a university. I did everything I was told to do and everything that was expected of me. My whole purpose had been drilled into me to get to college. Never anything else. Now I have a job and attend classes. No one even looks this way now. As long as I continue to work and take classes I am ignored. Until they want something of course. My father, does not even […]
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Doing The Dishes
I am tired of studying, I’m tired of working, paying my bills, doing the dishes, crossing the street. I am tired of my morning coffee. I am tired of making small talk while watching your fake face smiling at me. I’m tired of all the mundane little inconveniences of being alive… I am tired of doing the laundry, reading books, brushing my hair, I am tired of caring, smiling, pretending and all the other symptoms of life…. my ears are going deaf listing to your lies and my lies, my eyes are going blind from you betrayals and my betrayals. Stop,,, I want it all […]
I hate to say it but I’ve heard it from so many sources. Just be happy! Maybe there’s something horribly wrong with me but I can’t push myself to be happy. I should be though-from the outside my life kind of seems pretty fucking OK. Nowadays I feel guilty and anxious because I can’t bring myself to enjoy it. It’s there, right in front of me but forcing myself to be happy?
That only deepens my anxiety making it so much worse. I tried to ask for help, to make people understand me but they can’t. Now the plan switched to: I’ll off myself if I […]
I remember the first time I actually thought about suicide. I was doing the dishes, and I broke a coffee pot. The only damn coffee pot. I was so sick of everything, of doing every fucking thing wrong, I just started screaming. And then that’s when I heard my mother’s voice. She said, “The knife’s in the drawer. Cut off your singer and you’ll be dead in five minutes. I walked over to the drawer, pulled out the knife, and pressed it to my finger, then my wrist. Hard. Until I winced and pulled it back. I spent the rest of the day sobbing under […]