My name is Niki Wonoto. I am from Jakarta, Indonesia.
I am severely depressed & suicidal. I feel so alone, nobody cares, even if I die.
I’m 38 years old loser & failure. Maybe better to just die.
Failure
Lyrics:
Pent up in here
Left all alone, I’m with
The one I most fear
I’m sick and I’m tired
Of reasoning
Just want to break out
Shake off this skin
Loom larger than life
I can’t swallow
Another slice
Seems like my shadow
Mocks every stride
Can I learn to live with
What’s trapped inside?
Pent up in here
Left all alone, I’m with
The one I most fear
I’m sick and I’m tired
Of reasoning
Just wanna break out
Shake off this skin
I can’t escape myself
I can’t escape myself
Lyrics:
I need some company
I miss the noise of life
The silence deafens me
The minutes I can’t kill
I keep an eye on the time
I catch it standing still
In my hour of need
Sometimes I get so near
I journey aimless days
But always end up here
In my hour of need
In my hour of need
In my hour of need
Hello again everyone. Things have been pretty tough recently, I’ve been struggling to get out of bed, to eat, to talk to people. The impulses are strong. I’ve almost jumped off my window a couple months ago.
My parents are getting old and my dad is a little sick again. I feel bad for them because they have to live and put up with me and all my psychological issues. There is not a day where I wish I wasn’t born. I am turning 23 this month. I am not getting better.
I finally reached the point where there is no hope. And it’s not as dark as I thought. I am just here, breathing, accepting that I am a failure, that I will never be loved by someone, I will never be successful, I will never be a first choice and I will never be happy.
So now I am just waiting. I am waiting for the end. I am waiting for the day where I finally take all those pills I have inside my first drawer.
There is no hope, there is no happy ending for some people and honestly I don’t even bother to care anymore. I have just accepted and that really set me free somehow. I see life as something so fragile and meaningless right now. I am just waiting for the curtains to close. So I can just stop waiting and finally be free.
So far I’ve been chasing myself and trying to keep distracted. I’m failing.
My health is failing. I feel nauseous and wonky. I act as though everything is fine and my life is faultless.
My heart is racing in my chest. My arms are weak and my eyes burn to the back of my skull. I am restless and yet empty.
I’m failing. I just can’t see myself carrying on like this.
I’m so tired of being tired. I would like death to come and embrace me now but I am in too much pain to go and seek it.
Damn chronic illness. Why me? I would not wish this on any being, but why me? As though I have not suffered enough.
I am now on constant medication. I’m only 25 and I want out. 25 is longer than I expected to live.
Today, I hear another celebrity has died from suicide. Everyone says it’s such a pity and sad. I am envious. I am envious of their freedom. Their freedom from pain and suffering.
I know I am ill both physically and mentally. I wish it could all stop. I wish I could be normal. I hope to someday be free
I want to die…this time,this will be my 4th suicide attempt and i have done my research this time…sleeping pills first and then carbon monoxide from a stove or nitroglycerin overdose with alcohol…i will be 26 years old in June and i want to do it as soon as possible.
In short i hate myself for being a failure and pathetic trash and i disappointed a lot of people and it seems today i have disappointed the person i care for most…and i feel the need to punish myself,no sleeping,eating or drinking water for 3 days for starters,and it’s still soft.afterwards,the harder stuff will follow.
I’ve been a sad trash can all my life with some small exceptions,and this time…i’ve decided that this is…well…soon-to-end last exception,i seriously doubt things will get better from this point since i’m past that,and yes,it is a cliche,i’m a lonely person with few to no friends,a sad fuck full of despair and obsessions…though that is how i know i am,i put on a sweet,friendly and open-minded mask so that people will accept me.
I am a religious person,i believe in God but i also believe that i can’t crawl while the rest are walking and i can’t always hide,cry and pretend i am okay for the rest of my life,i haven’t done anything wrong to anyone and i don’t deserve to be in this prison,i’ve got a job,my…so called girlfriend (she is actually the person i disappointed most and because of her i am considering the 4th time)…but i don’t have the strength left to do it,i’ve been through many…loss,loss due to suicide,car crash,almost got stabbed 2 times…but none of this can compare to actually being alone…i am terrified of being left alone or abandoned,i never pushed people away but they keep leaving no matter how much i showed kindness or interest,no matter if i was funny or entertaining…i’m a failure,trash and i refuse to live in this prison until i’m 40.
New member here, please forgive me if this is too long of a read.
No faith in me because of my ASD label
I’ve been struggling with suicidal thoughts here and there for the last 10+ years. It begins from when I was a small child. You see, I was diagnosed with autism when I was about 6 years old mostly because of my speech delays and have had problems from the get go. The teachers often treated me like an idiot, and resulted in me reading at a kindergarten reading level until I was in 4th grade because my parapro only let me read some dragon books with 36 point font that’s really for reading to babies. As hard to believe it as it is, I had to teach myself to read essentially just so I no longer had to rely on the pictures to hope they were telling the story. I spent all of my 5th grade year with a dictionary at night and various books to break down words to the simplest level possible and construct my vocabulary and ability to read sentences.
I remember things like the speech therapist threatening to drag me out of the classroom if I didn’t go with her now in the 4th grade. Said speech therapist also made me pronounce words like orange, apple, banana, etc. when I was in 5th grade. Sadly when I was being reevaluated to see if I needed more special education before middle school, they told my parents what progress they made. Ha, they didn’t do squat to help me! For the longest time, my teachers made me sit either with the other special ed kids or alone with my parapro. As a result I struggled to really maintain friends as I couldn’t always play at school or lunch time. I could never maintain friendships for more than a few years.
Flash forward through middle school and high school, my sophomore year I OD’ed on pills hoping they’d kill me, which didn’t work. I went to therapy for several months, and my dad decided to tell me that he’s tired of paying for my sessions for me to just talk about life and not make progress in my healing. So after that I pretended I was feeling better just to appease my parents, even though my suicidal thoughts never went away from then on sadly.
All they care about is my looks and body
Junior year about 9 years ago, my parents were close to divorcing. They were excessively in my business, even though my mom moved out twice in the past year. A friend of mine was hosting a hotel birthday party, which I to this day wish I never went to because of what happened. My high school boyfriend that I’ve dated on and off since the end if freshman year raped me in the backdoor in the bathroom when everyone else was gone. I told him to stop several times and claims he didn’t hear me. I heard a feminine, beautiful voice tell me to fall to the ground (perhaps you could call this an angel if you will). After that I fell to the ground in tears because of the pain and trauma.
I never got help for this incident, and I am paying for it today. Because of my very low self-esteem and self-loathing tendencies I felt I deserved it. Afterall, my parents always reminded me of how I was hard to relate to and raise and all apparently because of my history. Plus, there’s a serious rape culture in this country, where the victims are the criminals and the perpetrators are the victims.
Flash forward a couple years later, and I started dating someone different, someone who I thought was my friend for the last 5 years. We have all heard of the statistic that if one has been raped, they’re more likely to be raped again than someone who never has been raped. We are told to watch our drinks at parties in case someone tries to put in a so called “roofie” or date rape drug, walk in well lit areas with a friend, etc. What they don’t talk about is when premed students who are perverts and know their drugs decides to bring you a glass of water and waits until you pass out for a few hours to have their way. I woke up one time on my stomach, pants off, and caught my then boyfriend having sex with me while I was asleep. I asked him what he was doing and to stop. Because I felt so groggy and confused, I couldn’t really fight. This wasn’t too long before I moved to another state, where I am today.
Said ex boyfriend cheated on me when I was asleep in his room for the last time, at the same time I was having a strange dream about him cheating on me in his basement. He confessed a few months later when I told him about the dream and how I woke up to him walking through the front door after him walking her home! I did cut the loser off cold turkey after he told the truth.
Just when I began to think things were getting better…
I became pregnant on the night of my current boyfriend’s birthday a couple years ago. It was an unplanned pregnancy and one for which I was completely not ready. This part of my life that’s supposed to be full of excitement and joy is where my problems and old wounds really resurface. The sensations I felt with my son moving inside me never made me feel excited, but instead I felt uneasy and out of control over my body, just like when I was being raped. I felt like life was playing a cruel joke on me with this pregnancy while working only a part time job as a retail cashier making less than $500/month and only an AA. My boyfriend was pressuring me very hard to get a job, even though I was very obviously pregnant and we all know how employers are these days.
Luckily (at least I thought at the time), I found a 35 hour second shift job that pays $15/hour in a lab. So the financial situation seemingly got better until my boyfriend lost his job and has since been working multiple bar tending jobs too make ends meet. Living in an expensive city and being stuck struggling paycheck to paycheck for the last 2ish years along with health problems from working hours I should be asleep during and all has taken its toll on me has done wonders for me (not).
Oh and my not so wonderful manager? She claims punching in, putting away my lunch in the fridge, and then getting a cup of water or so is time falsification. I’ve caught her walking into the break room pretending she needs a cup of water even though she always has a bottle in her office, goes to the bathroom, and even roaming the hallways conveniently when I’m coming in to start the work day. I start a whole hour later than most of my peers, so she suddenly has to do this when I’m walking in the door to see what I do after clocking in and such? What a stalker and an overpaid loser who others say is the worst manager my department has ever seen. She’s rude, communicates mainly through sticky notes I get to come into first thing every other week I make a stupid “mistake” according to her. Oh and my great ideas that helped people understand certain tasks way quicker and save a ton of time? Unacknowledged, and one was implemented up until the day before I conveniently get a write-up for a mistake I made a few weeks prior to the day before I had a job interview for another department. Ha, that ***** set me up because she can’t even keep her department fully staffed and was afraid of losing yet another employee. She’s done it to others conveniently when they too were looking to transfer to greener pastures within the company. So much for a company that’s so full of opportunities for advancement… LOL if you’re in bed with management and kiss their behinds enough then absolutely!
I thought my old wounds were healed up until…
So I thought my wounds were cleared up until labor came. Because of doctors being the authority of how labor goes and a boyfriend that stayed out too long working, I felt so alone. When I crowned and felt my son pressing on my rectum, I mentally lost it. I was too calm during labor despite my best discomfort in trying to maintain my sanity.
Thank god my son actually started sleeping through the night early on, and was anyways mild mannered, despite some expected tantrums while teething and such. I don’t know how long I would’ve lasted if he had colic or otherwise a terrible sleeper. Still, I am overtired by the time I go to bed and fell like I’m running on 5 hours of sleep even if I sleep for 9, thanks to my crazy work hours.
I tried getting help but I got the short end of a twig
I saw a counselor per a program Mr company offers their employees. The issue is that there’s only 6 sessions you get a year, so to not be told to go elsewhere for my issues, I never talked about what happened to me, only my messed up childhood. Plus, imagine the judgment I would be the not so proud recipient of after mentioning I was raped not once by one person but multiple times by different assholes. Whoever knew that a medically ordinary childbirth could still wreck havoc on someone who was raped years ago when the wounds were mostly healed?
The counselor said I have anxiety issues and some anger problems. This is true but none of that explains my nightmares, reliving past traumas constantly, breaking stuff because I feel like I’m fighting for my life every day. Every day I cry on my way to work lately, I sob in the corner half the time I’m with my son during the short time I have with him every day. Shoot, I hold back tears many days while at work half the day and even sometimes while driving to pick up my son. Whatever happened to me? Is this who I’ll be for the rest of my pathetic life?
I just want to die and give my son a better life and boyfriend a better woman
My boyfriend is growing weary of my mood swings. I only recently told him about what my premed Ex did to me and how childbirth brought back awful memories, making me look abnormally calm while in labor and when pushing. He will never understand that I can’t tell if I’m dreaming or awake and am constantly reliving my past horrors because my mind now thinks it’s almost 10 years ago. He will never know how I struggle to feed myself during the day because I’m overwhelmed with childcare and constantly reliving my nightmares while awake. He’s too much in denial of how bad my mental health has crashed. He’s too scared to do more because he was blessed to have been raised with a stay at home mother since he was 8 and thinks women must do it all for him. He stops trying to push for a better job because he thinks he’s annoying ppl with his persistence and claims he wants to do things “on his schedule” and seriously wonders why he hasn’t been in a management position in years, even though he’s worked for over 15 years! Yet another frustrating situation I can’t manage.
Fuck being a mom I should have never become, the messed up child my parents regret having at all. Fuck my boyfriend who’s too passive and buries his head ink the sand, hoping my problems go away overnight on their own. I feel awful for my beautiful angel of a son I don’t deserve. I have zero patience because I can barely eat, drink, etc., struggle to communicate my feelings and the fact I make him healthy foods his lazy grandmother doesn’t feel like giving him unless my head injured boyfriend (thanks to a car wreck that almost killed him 10 years ago) somehow manages to remember a damn thing. He and his family gets frustrated my parents work and can’t have him as much as they’d like and they get annoyed with the poor communication on everyone’s part. I am buying myself a nice bottle of wine, rope, and letter paper so I can soon say goodbye to this sad world.
If you managed to read this hot mess of a post, thank you for listening to what I have to say hopefully before I leave this dirty world behind for good.
I’m feeling suicidal. I’m close with my family so have put off acting on those feelings. But I have felt like this for years now. One day this overwhelming anxiety overcame me and my life has been at a standstill since then. I find it hard to leave the house sometimes, and haven’t had a job in years as when it comes to my first day at a new job, this crippling fear overtakes me and I’m too scared to enter the building. I have debt worries too. I’m really good at hiding it somehow since my family don’t have a clue about all this, since I just constantly lie to everyone about my life. I just can’t see how I can move forward and build a life and start again. Every time I consider opening up to family, my fear of disappointing them stops me.
I’m old now. I wasted my youth being too scared to go out and have fun. Instead i worked at a crappy department store using my money to help my family out of endless drama until I was thinking about killing myself every day. So I re enrolled in college with big plans to be a art teacher. Today I failed the $90 Praxis exam for the 4th time. I was not even close. I’ve missed the deadline to be screened into the education program again and will have to wait another year. This is the only thing I’ve ever tried to to for myself, just for me. But I failed again. I’m a loser. I live at home with my parents, I’m fat and ugly, and I don’t really have any friends. I hate myself. I want to die right now but I don’t want to go to hell or have my family have to pay back my student loans. I’m going to look into finding a way my family wont have to pay back my loans and if I can do it I think I’m going to let go. If God isn’t real and I just stopped existing I would be ok with that. Really I have been thinking about it for a long time and Not existing would be better than all this misery and pain. I don’t know I just wanted to tell someone without them calling the police on me or making me feel guilty. The only thing i am actually good at is working like a dog and spending all my money on my family. I’m a mistake.
Last night I lay awake in my bed thinking about my vacant, failure of a life. I think I have accepted the fact that I have lived longer than I should have. The first time I thought about suicide was when I was 20 years old.I’m 30 now. I think the only things that kept me alive and bothering to go on was that I was able to achieve some success financially in my now dissolved businesses, my family and the very smallest of things in life. But now things are becoming very dark. I think to myself that I really should have pulled the plug at about 24 latest.
I tried to fix myself with meds for 13 months at age 29, but it failed. I have never had a real job and have to somehow get one now. I have so many problems mentally and healthwise that its a joke to say the least. Being withdrawn and not able to trust people only makes it worse.
I have for a long time accepted that I cannot help who or what I am. I am not proud of who I am. Not even sad to say it. I wish I was someone who lived a normal life from a young age (friends, partying, college, good job, house, marriage etc) but I have had none of this. I am starting to make exit plans because its getting bad now. The feeling of hopelessness and helplessness is intensifying and its unbearable.
So I do have things that I enjoy doing, yet I understand I will never be “good enough” at these things. Basically the one person that I told about these (because I wanted to try sharing these skills that I’m working on so I could improve further) told me that I shouldn’t work on these because they are a waste of time and that he knows I simply don’t have the “personality” to ever be somewhat decent at these. I’m curious if that means I should just not work on these again…. Should I just quit?
So I have been depressed since I was 13, I had a eating disorder (anorexia) for almost three years, I have social anxiety, I self harmed for many years, but now I am 7 months free (yep, trying to hold on) and I tried to commit suicide 5 times.
I can’t stand not being the best, and this feeling is eating me alive. I can’t focus, I can’t stop crying, I can’t sleep and I can’t eat. The feeling of not being perfect is destroying my life, I can’t help but break stuff, hurt myself, slap my face and smash my head against a wall everytime I feel I am losing control and not being good enough. This feeling has been making my life miserable since high school, it seems like I am not able to let myself make mistakes and I can’t even accept when things don’t go as planned.
I am a med student, I have never felt so much pressure in my life like I feel now, I pressure myself to be perfect, even tho I am not and I will never be, I just feel sometimes like I am not doing the right thing and that I am not capable, strong and smart enough to be a doctor. I am starting to feel jealous of my colleagues when others say how great they are, and that isn’t me, I am a sweet person, I don’t wanna be contaminated with this posion, I really need to feel free.
So please, do you have any tips? I desperately need some.
Thank you
Not really sure what to do anymore. Just let go of my antidepressants about 3 weeks ago after a 13 month period. Didn’t make me feel much better and the side effects were bad so I quit. Suffering now from discontinuation syndrome which is terrible. Brain zaps, sweats, aches you name it. I can feel myself slipping back into the same dark pit I was in before I started taking them. Feeling hollow/empty inside again, pretty much feeling like a waste of space and unmotivated to do much. Got that view of life again. The one where everyone seems to have succeeded and I failed. I have to watch those people I knew when I was younger (both good and bad) living good lives while I sit here at the age of 30 in my room in my parents house living off the rapidly depleting savings of my lost businesses that I once thought would let me live a comfortable life.
Still too socially awkward, unhappy and depressed to send out a CV or even bother looking for a job even with a degree. I think I don’t care much for life anymore. I’ve never fitted in. I’ve never ever fitted in socially and I don’t think I could fit into any company. pathetic. I feel bad writing this shit and having other people read this but I’m just trying to get it out of my mind and put it somewhere. I think I have to accept that the end of the road is near because I just don’t belong in life, never have. The fact that I’ve made it to 30 is an achievement. I first wanted to end my life when I was 20.
People are starting to notice more and more that I have problems given my age and poor progress in life, and they are starting to treat me like I am a deadbeat. I wish I could let them takeover my body and mind and let them feel what I feel. So why do I bother to push on? Probably because I want to see what happens to the world and to still enjoy the small things in life. I can’t help the way I feel now and the way I have felt all my life as an outsider, an outcast. I suppose you can’t choose the way you are in life but if you end up like me then its a life not worth living. I’ve reached the point in my life where I look at other people my age with stable jobs, nice cars , married etc and I wonder what it must be like to have their life, their mindsets. Must be nice to be able to function like a normal human being and experience things (relationships, careers etc) that normal people do.
I’m very grateful for the little I have in my life but at the same time I can’t deny the fact that ever since the age of about 16 I have felt like a lost soul that didn’t belong here.
I wonder now and then whether I deserve this family or all the things that I have?
I was always a troubled kid. My parents never knew what was wrong with me. I tried to be like the other kids but I am always a failure. Teachers would tell my parents that they weren’t treating me right and by that they meant that they should put up restrictions. Like they shouldn’t let me waste my time in drawing or reading and force me to focus on studies. Or slap me once in a while over my bad grades. My parents did try that. But that made me worse.
And right now they don’t think about my sadness anymore because getting counselling would mean I’m mad. And that last one is my thought. My mother wouldn’t mind getting counselling for me. I just don’t want to be mad and I feel like I am.
But that just makes me worthless of all that I have. And my parents don’t deserve a dumb girl. They deserve an excel. Someone with a bit more feelings and intelligence.
I feel dumb and useless writing it here. It feels like writing something on a paper and throwing it in the ocean.
I failed.
I don’t mean that I’m a failure as a person or that my fiance leaving me means I’m not “good enough,” but that I failed to be the person that she wanted to be with, the person she felt she could be with. I failed to be the person she thought of as family, as someone permanent.
This is what hurts the most.
It doesn’t help that I feel like I’m the one left behind, the one who’ll take longer to recover (if ever?). She’ll go back to school this semester, taking five classes (although honestly, based on her track record, I suspect she’ll drop at least one of them- she always thinks she can take on that much, but it never worked out that way), and do well not only in her grades but in creating relationships that could give her recommendations.
Compared to her, I’m not a good student. I’m supposed to graduate in December and I don’t have anyone to give me recommendations. Even when I was with her (and before) it seemed like every semester my depression and/or anxiety fucked something up- last semester I had to drop my math classes which meant extending my graduation. And now, with her gone, it’s going to be so hard. I thought that this semester would be different- I’d thought that with my depression finally improving I’d actually do well in classes. I wouldn’t be paralyzed by anxiety, I’d be able to talk to teachers (and peers) more easily and often, my brain wouldn’t feel so slow, and maybe I’d even do better grade-wise. But now, even if my depression goes away or improves significantly, I’m still going to be sad. So incredibly sad. I feel like I’m right back to where I was four years ago: depressed, lonely, and grieving.
It feels worse this time, even though that sounds awful (I was grieving a death last time). Maybe because before I didn’t believe I could be happy, that something really good could happen to me- finding the woman I want to spend my life with. Experiencing it only lose it is so incredibly painful.
After a decade of depression and anxiety and other bullshit, I feel like I deserved this happiness, to experience not being depressed and being with the woman I was going to spend my life with. I’m tired of my life being just a series of traumatic and sad events that are constantly weighed down by depression and anxiety.
I can’t go on like this. Everyday just the same damn pain as before. I know, no one I know would even try to understand how horrible I feel. So, I also don’t want to bother them with something, they don’t care for anyway. Everyday I fake a smile. Going to breakfast smiling my faked smile. Being around my “friends”, going somewhere, smiling my faked smile. But it gets more and more out of control. When no one talks to me I just can’t keep it up anymore. People always knew me as the blissful one, well nevertheless that did never change the fact that almost everyone hates or at least dislikes me though…
When I’m home I more often start to get angry instead of being nice and smile. I hate that. I hate me.
Why can’t I make at least others happy? Why am I always no matter what I do, just a disappointment? Why can’t I just be TRULY happy and have real friends with whom I’ve got fun and share every secret? Just what’s so wrong with me???
Well, I don’t know myself. It seems to be, that I can’t change. That I can’t be the one, people want me to be. They are always complaining about me, then I try to change it and still fail. That’s how it always goes. Yeah, I’m a failure. A burden to those who need to endure me so often. I guess it would have been better if I’d never been born.
My faked smile crumbles. And so does my hope. My hope that some day my life might change. I know, I’m actually still young and stuff but I’m constantly asking myself if going on like this is really worth it. I mean, it’s not like someone would miss me anyway. But still it would cause my family trouble. Probably they would be even sad because they are just too nice. I don’t want that. I disappointed way too many people already.
Even now posting this, I feel bad for bothering you guys with this. I really hope that everyone of you out there is doing as good as possible, considering this is a suicide website. Still I hope that all of you can find the happiness in their lives again and don’t need to suffer any longer. You really don’t deserve all this pain and despair. All of those posts I read, came from people, who needed to go through so much even though they did mostly almost nothing wrong.
So, I really appreciate you reading this and especially I hope as already said, that you all find that what you need to finally life an easygoing and happy life.
So, today I’ve relapsed into depression. I was doing really well, I really was…but now I am just failing at life. Or at least, that’s how I feel. School’s got me feeling like that and it seems like no matter how hard I try, I’m just a failure. I mean, I can’t really excel at anything but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Whenever I try to look up, the world slaps my face downward. It gives me subtle reminders that I’ll never get what I want, or I’ll never be happy, or that I don’t even matter. There’s always something. Maybe I’m still stuck in the habit of looking at the negatives but they seem to be screaming at me in a way that I can’t possibly ignore.
I discovered something terrible today. Seems like my feelings are going to get me into trouble again. I guess that’s one thing about me that never fails. I wish I didn’t feel anything or have any emotions. Especially toward others. It would just be so much easier. My feelings overwhelm me until I’ll just do anything to make it stop. All of it. Hopefully my heart won’t be so fragile this time around but no matter how many times I tell myself that I can’t have feelings for people, my heart just does it anyway. It’s killing me. Love kills me. I’m crazy. The thought of what could be destroys my mind until I’m living in the illusions that I’ve set up for myself. And who can I blame? I want to blame everyone but I know it’s my fault. I’ve never been incredibly good at lying to myself. Everything is my fault. I guess that just points back to me being a failure. I’m crazy, did I say that already? It’s true, there’s no other explanation. But my feelings can get so strong for someone I’ve barely talked to. Maybe I’m secretly desperate but that doesn’t seem right. I wouldn’t say I’m desperate. But I don’t know what I would call it.
It’s just amazing that I could hate the things that make me….well……me. Being me just causes so many problems but I thought that I stopped hating myself a long time ago. Maybe I subconsciously hate myself at this point. It’s just annoying. I don’t want other people to judge me for what I can’t control but in a way, I judge myself. I’m pathetic. Is life over yet? I think I’m done.