I feel done. It’s this feeling of emptiness and loneliness. I don’t have any motivation to do anything. I’m so much more tired to do things. I just want to sleep all day. I don’t know why I feel this way. I just do. I can’t talk to anyone about it because my friends won’t understand and my parents will just say that I’m being dramatic.
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
Its frustrating. I have no one.
Here I am typing furiously at a “friend,” saying how badly I wanna kil myself.
And all I get is sarcasm.
All I get is,
“Thats a tad bit too dramatic.”
Really? Really? But you know I want to kill myself. But you’ve heard me. You’ve heard me already you know this.
You know I was sent to that stupid damn hospital. You know its serious.
You know I’m not OK and I’m sad and I’m trying to fucking fight and I’m just SO. FUCKING. SAD. AND. ANGRY. AND. …
PARDON ME GUYS,
IF THIS SEEMS A TAD BIT TOO DRAMATIC.
HA HA HA 😀 😉
Im so lost so broken Im trying with every fiber in my body to keep it together. but when I get myself in room alone I can’t function. I want to die soooo bad , I want it l to end . my husband seen me in ball of mess in the closet. He said “don”t worried I’ll take to get makeup later , so stop crying ” I said I dont care About the make up it sucks but whatever . I want to die i thought. Then he asked wich killed me to hear but felt numb inside. Are you unhappy with me ? I said no then he asked whats the problem then .i shouted in my head I want to die
But what came out is I hate my life. He told me it will get better. I dont think it will. Either I kill my self or My marriage Is over and I will not remarrie . and I know going to tahoe is a Mistake but when your inlaws play power games this is what happens . Im suicidal again . and no one knows my husband thinks I was over dramatic with my out burst yesterday . I will never again tell him how I want to die .
- I’ve been asking my parents to take me to a psychologist for the past four years. Today they told me I have an appointment next week, I was happy at first, then they told me the day of my appointment and I got scared.
- I have too many things on my plate…
- I used to enjoy going to my Forensics practices, it was a time where I got to swear, scream, cry and just be who I am inside without anyone knowing. Now, I have to be patient, not be so dramatic. For FUCKS sake, how am I not supposed to be dramatic? Seriously, my category is Drama! I am the only student in the team that has been in drama for 5 years, and it’s always been my way, the fun way, the way I get to be me, but no… now they want to change that.
- The Principal in our high school is the gatekeeper of hell, she takes the little bits of happiness I have left and she replaces it with misery and bitterness. She acts all high class and shit, but she is lower than low, she has no class. She’s a racist and a sexist.
- I used to be an honor student, I’d say I don’t know what happened, but I do… High School happened. This year was supposed to be the year I shined and made my name known, but seems like life doesn’t want me to succeed in anything.
- My grades have all drastically dropped, I have D’s in 5 of my classes and I take 8. I don’t seem to understand chemistry, and pre-calculus is not meant for me. I can’t get the material to stay in my brain. It’s like I have a knowledge repellent of some sorts. I can learn a song in less than minutes but when it comes to the important things, like school stuff, I just can’t.
- Let’s talk about relations…
- I have a relationship repellant.
- My best friend (girl) told me she had a crush on me, and I told her how I felt… I forgot to tell her the most important detail, and that was, that I couldn’t live without her. She stole my heart and she filled it with joy. It’s been a few months since that happened and now she’s with one of my closest guy friends and they seem happy, so I’m happy.
- My other best friend (guy) he is a player. He doesn’t accept it, but he is. He toyed with my feelings, but that didn’t affect me. What does affect me, constantly, is the fact he acts as if he were my boyfriend and he cockblocks every single person that tries to get to know me better. He is this gorgeous hunk who has this amazing everything. I can’t explain how perfect he is. We joke every once in a while about ending up together, funny thing is, I hoped it wasn’t a joke. He doesn’t know this, but when I talk about him with my sister we call him numbnuts.
- My sister’s boyfriend’s brother, we’ve known each other for 6 years now, I have seen his transformation… it was a blessing. He is confused about his sexuality, just like both of my best friends. He actually got to know numbnuts, they hung out and texted each other and I hated that. It was horrible. My middle school crush was talking to my high school crush, GREAT! The funny thing about that, they always had to have me in their conversations and they went out I had to be with them, and no I couldn’t bring anyone else with me, I had to be the third wheel. I HATE BEING THE THIRDWHEEL!!!! It’s the worst feeling ever and when it’s with a past crush and a now crush, it’s way worse.
- I gotta tell you (anyone who reads this), I have liked many people. I just tend to like people for their personalities and for their knowledge.
- People call me cradle robber for having a friendship with two 9th graders.They’re sweet, funny, charming and annoying, I hang out with them because I get bored and lonely and they keep me company in a non-sexual way. We talk and laugh most of the time we’re together. But people don’t see it that way. They think it’s a weird relationship I have with them. Just because a person speaks to someone doesn’t mean they are together.
- The last two hook-ups I’ve had have been fun, but I noticed with them, that I’m the girl who gets played with before the person gets serious with someone else.
- I believe that forced relationships should take a life long break, cause if the feeling isn’t there, then why stay with the person?
- I wish my love life could be like one of those you see in a John Hughes movies.
- I wish I could disappear into thin air and not be recognized as a compound.
- Everyone in school talks shit about me and then they act like were friends.That KIND OF PEOPLE SICKEN ME.
- WHY DO YOU WASTE YOUR BREATH TALKING SHIT ABOUT PEOPLE? DO YOU FEEL BETTER ABOUT YOURSELF? DOES SOMEONE GIVE YOU A MEDAL FOR BELITTLING SOMEONE AND MAKING THEM FEEL LIKE THEY COULD DIE AND NO ONE WOULD NOTICE?
- My eyes feel heavy, my head feels empty, my body feels used, my voice is unheard, my actions are unseen…nothing I do, nothing I say, nothing that ever comes from me is acknowledged. I am nothing, and I live in a world of nothingness.
- School is the problem in my life.
- I feel drained.
- I’ve thought of moving in with my aunt so I can escape the nothingness from this place, but then I realize…. what would I do without the people that have grown close to me, the people that seem to care when something minor happens to me, what would I do in a new place?
I want to keep writing, but I can’t so here I will leave this.
“So what if you get depressed? everyone gets depressed you know. Don’t be so over dramatic”. Well, F*ck you. Don’t take depression too lightly my dear. It is one of a fucking hell. You think this is easy? NO IT’S NOT *****. You think getting depressed is normal? you think it’s just like “oh I’m sad.” then later “Oh I’m happy” ? NO IT’S NOT. You don’t know anything. You think I’m stupid for being dramatic? You think this is dumb? Wow. Just wow. I want to kill you by just saying that. Depression is savage af. Depression is hell and you can’t escape from it…
“Hang in there” they say. “It will be alright” they say. “be positive” they say. “Talk to god” they say. “Don’t be so over dramatic” they say. “You’ll get through this” they say.
“I’m through” I say. “Enough” I say. “I don’t want it anymore” I say. “I can’t take it anymore” I say. “I’m done” I say….
Just letting some randos know that I’m going to end it. Gotta act fast, as my condition is worsening, and I can already barely walk.
I’m going with a drop-hang. Can’t find a gun.
I’ll be sorry for whoever finds me, but at least they’ll have something dramatic to talk about with their friends. Imagine the mawkish, self-serving Facebook post! So many likes.
I’ll be especially sorry for my mother. My poor, hardworking, lonely mother. I am all she really has, and I am worthless: if I don’t end it, she continues to suffer through my deteriorating health, and if I do, I also end her life in a way.
But, I believe she’ll recover. And she’ll have a decade or two of relative peace afterward.
And I shall be free of “this long disease, my life” — absolute curse that it has been.
Remember: “Diese Welt ist der Wille zur Macht — und nichts außerdem!”
So fuck my life! ciao!
it’s kind of strange how and when you realize there’s something wrong with you. i haven’t really thought there’s anything wrong with thinking about death – i’ve been thinking about it for, what, the last three years now? it was almost like an unconscious epiphany that hadn’t hit me until, a few months ago, i stopped and just thought about it: what classifies as depression? what classifies as suicidal?
and for the longest time, i did not only believe, but i was convinced that i’m completely alright.
sometimes, i’d be trying to sleep at night, and i would think of how it would feel to hang myself. i would imagine it like this: my neck bound by a rope, my body dangling down the closet. and it’s dark. sometimes it would be hanging myself, sometimes it would plunging a knife into myself, sometimes it would be pills. whichever way, it would be death at the end.
and the most strange thing is i can’t tell anybody how i feel. i know for a fact that i won’t be taken seriously. i hate when people see me cry, when they see me act weak, because for the longest time i’ve been pretending to be tough and insensitive – the opposite of what i am. i never admit when i feel sad. i will feel hurt, i will feel like shit, but i will never, ever admit it, because i don’t like to appear to people over-sensitive. mostly because at home, everybody mocks me and calls me sensitive and dramatic.
do i think about getting help? not often. because i’m still partially convinced that i’m alright. maybe it’s that i’ve been sad for a long time, it’s my normal. i don’t know. i also can’t see myself walking up to my father and saying, “dad, i’m depressed,” because no one would take me seriously. more mocking, more shit. i haven’t gone outside of my house in about two months. stopped interacting with my friends, boiling down our interaction to some words on online chat. i can’t tell them i’m depressed because i’m conscious about how they will feel. their jokes about depression and what would they call “overly-sensitive” people are mundane to me now. and everyday, i’m imagining more and more ways to plot my death. i would be reading something online and then would stop, as if i’ve had a sudden realization, and then bury myself into my mattress and cry for no absolute reason. sometimes for being shitty and over-sensitive and dramatic and horrible and hypocritical and stupid and weak. fucking weak.
I know that suicide and depression is not beautiful like they say, is not the rainy days or the grey world. I know that is not romantic or poetic. I know I am not a hero from a dramatic story. I know that in the day I kill myself there is no music or rain or all of that that happens in movies. I know that all. But I know too that the pain I feel is real and is killing me and that is the only real thing here. The stories I make, they are just ways of cope with this and release some pain and describe what I feel because feelings and words are two different languages and the meaning can’t be lost in the translation.
so lost.tired.broken. nothing to describe how im feeling really. i want to sleep forever it seems like my whole future has gone out the window. so tired and restless but i have to figure ths shit out i might be over dramatic but oh well. ig i cant say that or id be a hypocrite haha..
Last month I and my friend had a fight and at some point he asked me why I do this, if it was to seek attention. And since I am thinking: Am I really depressed?
This is getting really confusing and I just don’t know what is real anymore. I barely sleep, I barely eat, food doesn’t taste good anymore, I can’t concentrate, I can’t have fun while I play my favourite games, I used to love reading and writing and drawing but know I don’t. Everything bores me and everything is so exhausting. Sometimes I have suicidal thoughts and sometimes I cut myself. And after I cut or try to kill me and just get like a zombie. I have no feelings for a couple of days. No sadness or happiness, nothing. And then everything goes down again.
Sometimes I can even feel happy with myself, with energy and motivation. I can laugh when I am alone and I want to make stuff and I feel better, but sometime after that I just hit the bottom really hard again. I have searched the bipolar symptoms, but I don’t think I have it. I have some of the symptoms but it is like the subtle version of those, nothing dramatic, no super high periods. Just happiness and the “I want to kill myself”.
Is this normal?
Just thought I’d share my story, I’m not gonna be overly dramatic or emotional as I am very logical and rational for the most part, I am going to go off in a million directions and you will almost certainly think me bonkers before the end. I’m not asking for help or empathy, in fact I hope that what I put down on this webpage helps shed some light on others problems and the problems society faces on a whole, sounds a bit haughty I know.
Diving right in, myself, my eldest brother and sister engaged in some somewhat sexual activities at the ages of 5, 4 and 3, we were imitating things we had heard and seen our parents do, we didnt have a clue and nothing occurred which you could call sex. Our parents knew something had happened, they never directly addressed the issue, me, being the oldest got the brunt of the blame for this event and have been treated differently ever since, used like the runt of the litter for chemical gratification, and not just by my parents but by my entire family, I started getting terrible migraines and was not popular at school. I saw ahead of time that the children at school, much like my father got a buzz, a testosterone boost out of intimidating the weak, and since i DESIRED never to treat someone else this way having been heart broken by my own family i trained and learned to use my body effectively for fighting, people gave me “respect” but the kind of respect that one can’t live up to when actively avoiding both facing your past and embracing your future. I was humiliated by several girls at school, me diving in only to be rejected and then have the stories spread about and jokes made. I was afraid to kiss girls and nothing ever felt right, so anxious. My mouth was IT, my PENIS was IT my SPINE was IT, that is identity. Now it is virginity and my regrets. I had never felt love or lust or BREATHED DEEPLY into my perineum until the age of 28 due to the anxiety caused by my constant running and the denial of my sexuality and the shame associated with my sexuality. I failed at university due to just being too anxious, dreading the com(“cum” latin for “control”)pany of others. I have suffered terrible depressions and desired to end my life many times since the age of around 15 when i first went out into the woods with a noose. I couldn’t go through with it and felt worse for trying, I have done this several times since then feeling that there was no hope of the good job, beautiful girlfriend, eventually kids etc. But more than that I realized that my identity, as defined by my physical appearance, the essence of my spirituality was being controlled, my maturity as a human being, as a sexual creature was being denied me by the construct of societal expectation. The point is EYE was not supposed to discover the oblique muscles of my eyes, to use them to breathe and balance the muscles of my body, I was to be used by my family and friends until a woman down on her luck with a bunch of kids who already owned her own home (her territory) came along to take control of me at my lowest point after having been threatened with homelessness after losing my job and after being threatened with violence and actually been told (indirectly) to kill myself by friends of the family. Depressed? perhaps the muscle in your face called the depressor labii inferioris which shares innervation with the oblique internus is weak and the muscle facial muscle called depressor angular oris which shares innervation with the external oblique muscles is tight. WHY name such a terRIBle stATE such as depression SO (“os” is latin for mouth), if not for yORE benefit. Breathing is the thing, Religion is all about air re – er pronounced phONEtically= air.
I sit here now thinking I must be mad if i post this but i will anyway in the moment. I sit, incidentally in a bedsit flat, alone without any friends having abandoned my family, I have been through many jobs, working with agencies, I have been told time and time again that I am no longer needed, I am not the RIGHT person, I presume that means that only my right eye works as it should or conversely only the left, opponents in opposition who NOSE.
On Tuesday of this week My motorcycle was stolen, my sole means of transport for commuting to work, on wednesday I am told abruptly that I am no longer needed at the job I am working, a job where at the outset I am covering for someone on holiday who will not return for two weeks, the supervisor who informs me of my dismissal tells me the man on holiday is returning and this is why i am not needed and yet I was told this would be ON going work. Why I was dismissed to my mind is because nerves and chemical processes were in effect in my body and I am a VIRGIN and SINGLE(LEG), I was in position to take the alpha male status again from my intimidated boss. I seemingly make people uncomfortable despite my cordial misanthropy. So I now have no job next week I will be able to pay rent but will have no money for food, Obviously I cant afford a new motorbike and the insurance was third party. I believe this will not stop until I am lame and weak (and easy to control), and once I am lame and weak I may never recover again, THIS is survival. T- collar bone and clavicle , hi- hips and eyes, s- your spine (anagram) PENIS.
I have discovered more than I would like but I still have much to share (SH air). I could easily kill myself now i feel, given an instant and painless solution, the rope is the option most readily available. Rope in Misanthrope, ORE in rope. You see COINcidences are profitable and we are all consumers. I will go into further debt now, and perhaps struggle to eat well, I will have to cycle a fair distance for work so will probably loose weight. I will be more reliant upon my employers, I am effectively loosing my freedom. I will be given the choice, again, of pairing up with some woman at work or losing my job. I will re(air)ly upon this woman and she will have the power in the relationship, she will likely have her own home, she will keep me from having TWO of control. By that I mean that the territory will be hers (her home) and my living there relies upon the relationship going her way. This is going HOME, she will control me with fear and will enjoy all the sick and twisted chemical gratification and the muscular tonus and posture associated with these chemicals and state of being. I meanwhile will be sick and twisted until she is satisfied that I will never escape from her web and am in complete reliance upon her indirect abuse (this is one). As a result, if i cannot adjust , I myself will continue to be sick and twisted quite literally. Brilliant (RIB ILL) isn’t it?
this is just catharsis for me really, I will kill myself before living on the streets and begging for food. The american word “hobo” most definately relates to the obliques, as in HAITCH two obliques!
I suppose I have to be realistic, I’m not that good looking, I have little in the way of assets, no family or friends to relate to (as far as i’m concerned I NEVER had a relationship with anyone in my family) maybe I should be happy about being some bitches ***** and be the DOG to her GOD. I should let my future colleagues make me weak and ill, by not letting me breathe (the sea air), just give up, smell her and then let the manipulation and resentment commence.
The Bi in bible is for biped, the ble is for mandible, the masseter muscle shares innervation with the tensor fascia latae, the temporalis is shared with gluteus maximus, these are recruited with exhALAtion (ala latin for wings) and the superior oblique muscle of the eye!!!!
The bible says “and thy tongue shall be health” this is true as it binds your jaw together and
Why (EYE) isn’t this common knowledge?
Done for now, I’ll await the men with straightjackets.
Relized i dont have any friends and that no one cares about me. Religion always makes me question myself. I like a guy who will never like me back. Parents fighting constantly. Mother always dramatic. Dad always to childish. Cousin acts like hes all grown up. Everyone forgot my birthday even my parents until i told them. Might have cancer. Cutting myself. Tryed getting help but it didnt help in anyway . homophobic friend. Ughh… Why so many problems? Why isnt there a end?
Every since i was little i have had this feeling of something being missing or broken inside. Elementary school was okay because i wasn’t self aware enough to understand what i felt. I cried every day of middle school because i was weird poor and ugly and everybody i liked hated me. Writing that sounds so over dramatic but i think thats one of my problems too. I feel things so deeply. I dont know if its deeper than others but love and hate and sadness consume me when i feel them. I start operating off feelings and logic goes out the window. High school was a series of poor decisions based on trying to fit in and fill that empty broken part of me with “friends” and male attention. I have two kids now and honestly i am not a good parent. I feed them and make sure they go to school but im emotionally unavailable. When i can get the emotional strength to spend time with them i do. We go places and i am affectionate but for the most part i ignore them. I cant focus on anything else because that part of me always feels broken and im constantly trying to fix it. Im tired of trying to fix it. Emotions make you do stupid shit and im tired of having them. Im tired of existing just to exist. I dont get the point anymore and im tired of trying to figure it out. Whatever happens after you die has to be different from this. Maybe not better, but different. Im not a weak person. I have fought these feelings for almost 30 years but its to the point where i see i cant win and i would just like to rest and be done with it. Nothing else can fix the broken place except death so im ready. Thanks for reading
What happened to people spending their day on this website. It seems like this place died out quite a bit. This is my first time back in a few years, well last night was. Where is the traffic? Where are the people with biting judgements; the people with strict how to’s on getting better; the people ranting about non-events in their life?
I enjoyed reading the dramatic, and sometimes helpful, banter here. It was a good way to spend a Saturday, perhaps I shall move along, there are too many tumbleweeds in these parts. This site was a good place with little rules, which allowed you to speak your mind. Now that it’s died out a bit, the forum has lost it’s charm. Perhaps this is the fault of the moderators. Maybe suicidal ideology has been cured with some atypical antipsychotic, and we are the only ones who haven’t caught on. My bet is the drama alone here killed the forum on it’s own, a sort of forum HIV if you will.
Who or whatever is to blame, I will probably continue to post my life detriments here, because I honestly haven’t found a better place. Those of you who are still here should as well, and perhaps we can pray that the moderators will find a way to repopulate a dying website. Hell, a little variety never killed anyone, perhaps offer something new and interesting aside from the monotony. Maybe call on old souls who frequented this place to come back, and be moderators themselves. Do something because I am bored, and I want more feedback when I am in an unstable mindset dammit.
That might seem dramatic. My mind is all sluggish and clogged, probably because it’s 12:30 right now. I don’t anywhere. Maybe I’ll try elsewhere and see if I can be born with the correct body, ya know?
This flesh cage, I can’t live in it. It’s draining to see foreign objects on your chest and nothing between your legs. Why do I have curvy hips. They don’t belong there. They need to go. Maybe I’ll slice those chest tumors off.
There are boys all around with their own sets of problems. I shouldn’t be jealous, but hell, I am jealous. I’m jealous because they’re accepted as boys and men. To some people I’m a…don’t wanna say it.
14 years in this odd fucked up body
Either live a lie or don’t live at all
Try my luck elsewhere
Have fun and eat some carrots
So yesterday morning I was all ready to go. No fucking around this time. No last messages. No dramatic and theatrical end to my life.
I put the belt around my neck and suspended myself. It hurt, I won’t lie to you. The feeling of blood backing up in your head. Vision went blurry and the music I’d put on sounded all tinny and metallic. My limbs went heavy but I could still move them.
Then I heard it…
The front door opening.
We’re finally having our door fixed because it was broken into a while ago.
It was the contractor coming to finish the job. He knew I was in the house, he’d come to speak with me if I didn’t answer. He’s a nice guy. Just cosmically inconsiderate. I tried to whip the belt off but I’d tied the knot tight, I could hear him checking around downstairs, I was getting progressively weaker because of the positioning I couldn’t stand back up to my full height, so I was still suspended by the belt a bit. I eventually managed to loosen the knot enough to get it off and I ran to the top of the stairs just as he was about to come up.
A few words, he smiled and went off to work. He spent the next half an hour measuring things and then just left. Never came back.
I considered going back to finish the job but clearly today wasn’t the day.
There’d be another day. Soon.
Found it hard to explain why I’ve burst a hell of a lot of blood vessels in my face and eyes…