I just don’t know what to do with myself now. I’ve pretty much completed the biggest part of my bucket list (somewhere I traveled) and now I can’t seem to motivate myself at all. I know what I would want to do in the future, but now it feels like whether I make it to that point or not doesn’t matter at all. I have a wonderful life filled with supportive and kind people who tell me daily how much potential I have, but I have nothing to show for it. Guilt and a vague but almost desperate feeling of “there’s surely something left for you here, this must be where you belong!” is really all that’s keeping me here, but my realizing I can’t keep relying on escapism and unhealthy coping mechanisms forever is chipping away at what hope I have left. My depression has improved greatly from when I was suicidal and undiagnosed, but now my OCD is worsening, progress seems to have stagnated, and emptiness is starting to settle right back in, slowly but surely. I’m terrified of becoming the person I used to be all over again, and talking to my psychologist… telling her that everything’s beginning to fall back? That all the progress that took place is just gone? Call me cowardly, but I can’t bring myself to put either of us through the whole damn cycle again for it to keep repeating. Everything seems to be relapsing at once, but I can’t afford to show it.
I don’t want to be that post that you’re probably sick of reading, about falling into depression and healing from it. Three years. Three years of constant debating on weather i can stand myself or not. Starting to slowly fall back into a constant mind of self loath is so difficult. I’ve put my body and mind through to much shit to start being like this again. Scary thing is i don’t think im going to fight as hard as i did the first time.
I want the pain to go away. All the heart break, sadness, lonely nights, empty pill bottles, & watching the blood drip down my arms & legs after just having an episode. I need my thoughts to stop. I can’t handle it anymore. A few days ago my boyfriend slashed his wrists & took 20 xan bars because I tried to leave him. It was all my fault. I had to go over & clean up all of the blood after he got picked up by the ambulance. There was so much blood… it was all over the walls, the tv, the floor, the sink, etc. my mind is so messed up now I can’t even think right. I thought I was getting better but now it’s worse than it ever has been. I need it to stop. He said he did it because I was trying to leave him so that makes it my fault. I can’t leave him now because he will do it again so now I’m stuck in this unhealthy relationship & I want out. I want out of life.. someone please help.. I’ve been depressed for years.
My suicide note. I’m still working on it. I’m still waiting for help even though I know I’m only fake hoping. I don’t have a purpose anymore. Living is a torture every single day. I set myself a date. I planned everything. I’m pretty hopeless.
Anyways. Here you go, enjoy? I don’t know. Do whatever you want to do with this:
Hey. It’s me. I’m that shitty girl who killed herself because she’s a weak-ass depressed kid who’s only great at complaining and seeking for attention. You probably heard about me now, you’re probably gossiping about it. Anyways, I’m writing this letter because soon enough I’ll be gone. And soon enough drama will come, people will care, blaming themselves for not caring at all. Soon enough, people will question everything, and ask why. Oh wait, not soon enough. I forgot, I’m already dead, has drama started yet? How’s it? Don’t worry okay? This is going to be fun, we’re going to get through this. Word by word. Letter by letter. I’m going to tell you, why I ended my life. You see, I experienced the worst pain. A pain you could never imagine how hurtful it is. Emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. A pain that caused me to say that it’s easier to end my life, than live a life I never wanted, a life that I didn’t choose. The life that made myself… me. What do you expect me to do? How do I react if I never felt like my life is worth living?
So hey, I know some cared. I may hate myself, maybe I’m quite stupid, maybe what they say is indeed true. But I think people actually cared, just not enough. Is that right? Well, forget it. I will never know anyway, well literally because you can’t tell me after, I’m still dead. You see, I hate not knowing what to believe anymore. I hate not knowing what’s real. Maybe I just wanted someone to actually care and maybe that someone, approach me for once, and say, “Hey, are you going to kill yourself? Please no, please I care. Please don’t do that. I’m not going to leave you until you beat this.” Well, I guess that’s not gonna happen. It’s never gonna happen. In reality, it’s only my words anyway. To be honest though, someone actually said something similar, but they didn’t stay, they didn’t actually cared. They lend me a hand, the next day they thought everything was already fine. There’s no drama, therefore they let me fall. They said they miss me, but never made an effort to contact me, to ask how I’m doing?. I’m always the one who approaches them. They never knew what’s going on with my life, they never knew me at all. Isn’t that right friends? Bullshit. Lies.
People are stupid. I know I am too, but when it comes to reality and not just those shit they teach at school, they’re hopeless. You guys never understood suicide, you never will. Not until you become one like me and end up being a fucked-up, am I right? You think just because I don’t have a big reason to kill myself, just because I don’t have cancer or whatever shitty worse problems other people have, they’re the only ones that has the right to suicide. That only they’re allowed to use a rope, a gun, or a blade to kill themselves. It’s not how it works. Suicide doesn’t work like that. You can’t expect me to have the same tolerance level as yours. I have my own tolerance of pain too. Just because you didn’t felt what I felt, just because you see my pain as a small problem, doesn’t mean you’re stronger than I am?. I see it as something so hurtful. Depression is a silent killer. It doesn’t mean that if you can’t? see or feel it, it isn’t there. No, you can’t call me weak just like you fucking did. Like what you guys fucking did just because I’m scared of the pain. You can’t call yourself strong just because you can live your shitty life and that others like me decided to end theirs too. That I decided to end mine. It makes you a fucking coward. It makes you an asshole. You have no idea how much I tried to fight before I even gave up. You never knew me, you only see me as someone who lost a fight. The same as how you fucking called? me stupid, you guys don’t know how hard I was trying. Instead of helping me you guys decided to call me stupid. Shouted at me. Embarrassed me in front of the class. ‘Teachers’? Yeah right. But hey I can’t blame you though, instead, I’m going to live up with the title stupid. Oh wait, not live up, because I’m dead. I died, I died with the label stupid. They will remember me as a stupid piece of shit, a pain in the ass. Thanks for helping me destroy everything, my confidence, myself. I learned that I really am hopeless, I know that now.
You see (*insert names*). When people are different; More specifically, different from you. You instantly think they’re a disgrace, a thing that you can just throw around not knowing they have feelings too. That when, for example, a girl fucking had sex with someone in her teenage years, they’re already a slut. And if they don’t agree with you, you immediately label them as, assholes and ignorants. The funny thing is though, you guys are one of the most ignorant assholes I’ve ever met. Wake the fuck up, you’re not the basis of normality. People like you don’t deserve to be praised. You are no different from people who actually killed somebody. You won’t get anything from backstabbing, you won’t get anything from bullying others. The moment you judged other people; that moment when you judged me. You killed my soul. You killed my individuality. You killed me. Society killed me. You guys kill suicidal people. You destroyed me just because I was being myself.
I killed myself because nobody made me feel alive. Nobody saved me from dying, you didn’t try hard enough. When you guys are killing me, when I was dying. It just never stops. The worst thing is though, it also gets worse every second. Don’t worry. You guys aren’t alone, the world itself is a fucked up. You guys see me as a happy little shit. I smiled at you, told you how my day ‘went well’. I even tried approach you when you were fucking sad and cheer you up. Some pushed me away but that didn’t stopped me from helping, from being friends with you. You even saw my biggest smile, heard my loudest laugh. I’m quite disappointed to see on how stupid you are. You never saw me behind those. Did you even care? Because I’m a lonely ass person who relied on my fake friends. You don’t even know me, you never asked how I’m doing. You never tried to contact me just to fucking catch up. You miss me? Fuck you. You never knew what was going on with me. You never knew I’m depressed, you were supposed to be there when I needed it. You were supposed to call me because I was suicidal or because I was cutting myself again, because I was fucking attempted so many goddamn times to end my life. Oh, you didn’t know that? I never knew what to do or how to deal with depression. You were supposed to help me but nobody bothered to. Isn’t that what friends are for? Family then? No? Well I know what exactly friends are for. You aren’t friends. I’m so fucking lucky to even find real friends across the world. They’re fucking across the world, countries away from me. But I trust them more than you guys. And I never trusted anyone for so long because you broke my trust. You broke my spirit. Now you care because it’s too late. Now tell me if I’m still your laughingstock. But don’t worry, I don’t give a fucking damn anymore. I tried to understand you, because I know behind your attitude are people in their shitty lives. I tried to understand you guys, if I didn’t, then you probably end up like me. And you have no idea how painful it is.
Sometimes I wonder if really did wasted my life, if I should’ve done this sooner. Because right now, society is a mess. Society is an asshole. Everyone is an ignorant. If you knew that someone is gay, you immediately criticize them, and laugh at them for being themselves. You make the word ‘gay’ feel like it’s an insult. And quote something like they will go to hell because god told them not be gay, because being gay is a sin technically. Nobody seemed to care. If there’s someone with depression asked for help, you see them as just seeking for attention. You will tell them to just get over it, move the fuck on because it’s that easy isn’t it? In the end, if they ended their lives, you now suddenly care, you give ‘sympathy’ towards them because they decided to end the pain. You fucking hypocrites?. You guys care when it’s too late. You only act when it’s over. You’re gonna wait until suicidal people die before you move. And you think this is a phase? You think depression and suicide is phase? Well it’s? not. WAKE. UP. You can’t get over depression. It’s not a shitty ass thing that you can get over with this overwhelming pills that my psychiatrist told me to take. Suicide is real, and you can’t stop it. It always pull you back no matter how hard you try to run. Because you know, it was my problem at first. But unexpectedly, it became my last solution.
I used to enjoy softball. It was hard work, sometimes it was draining, but I actually like. I don’t think I do anymore. Everyone expects something from me. My parents and tournament softball coach think that I can play college and expect so much more than I’m capable of. My high school coach thinks I can’t do anything and doesn’t give me a chance. He expects nothing from me. I can’t deal with all of this. I wish I could go back and start over. I wish I was more athletic. I wish I was more confident in myself. I wish people could see the real me. I wish I didn’t have to feel numb and empty anymore. I can’t feel. I should be stressed out of my mind this week, but I’m not. Because I’m done with this whole thing of living. I keep of telling myself I want to die and commit suicide, but I’m too scared to die. I’m too scared to get help. I’m too scared…
I am here to tell you one thing. Death isn’t my solution, it is my hideaway spot. The place I dream about when things get bad, the place I think about when I want to end things, but cant bring myself to do it. I find it comforting to dream about what could be if I died, but then it begins to scare me, it begins to make me feel alone, and sometimes I don’t know what to do. How to handle life, how to keep going. Im so tired of struggling, so tired of living off of nothing, having to rely on others, I hate it. I use this site as an outlet, helping others, well, it helps me. Why? Because it gives me a purpose, Im not saying I use you guys to make me feel better, I want to help I want to make you guys in a better place. And I will help until my last breath, whenever that may be.
So, if you guys need anything, let me know, I will always be here, I am active on here many hours a day, whenever Im at my girlfriends house anyway to use her computer, but anyway, if you need anything guys, email me at firstname.lastname@example.org
Right, this is my first post on this site. I’m 16, Cliche angsty teenager. Depressed, Anxious, Low Self esteem, paranoid etc. The full package basically. Recently my parents have discovered about the cutting (and have guessed about the depression from that), and are trying to force me into counselling because of it. I’ve been to counselling before for anxiety, but it did sweet fuck all. Question is, do I do it again? I feel like it would be helpful, because, like everyone else here, I’ve tried to kill myself, and do genuinely want to get better, but can’t see a way of doing it by myself. If anyone has any advice on this, it would certainly help me through this decision, thanks
Wow… it has been over three years since I have been on this site. I found a new site I have been posting on more recently called inkvite. But I would like to take a step back and tell you my story…
As a child I had extremely bad separation anxiety but none of my doctors ever believed my mom. As I got old my mom noticed characteristics of ADD/ADHD in me and she tried to get me tested but no one would test me. She eventually gave up her fight.
As a middle schooler things started getting bad. I was always picked on and bullied. It was seventh grade, when I started to crave attention. I was gymnast at this time, but I really just used it as an excuse when I began to break my bones on purpose. I just wanted to fit in. I enjoyed the pain I put myself through. But that’s also when rumors and name calling got worse. Rumors like: she does it on purpose or she just wants attention. Names like: cripple, attention whore, fake, faker, or criplet. That year my sister made it public that she was a lesbian, so people started calling me gay because I hung out with this other girl so much. Even though the rumor wasn’t true it still got under my skin. I started drinking, smoking, and getting high every now and then with her. My grades started dropping and my mind never stopped thinking. That summer was good and had a lot of good memories. Then eighth grade started and it seemed like everyone remembered rumors and got a new vocabulary. They started to call me names like drama queen, fat, whore, *****, slut, brat, hoe, spoiled, attention whore, and anorexic. My dad began verbally abusing me and I would never tell my mom what I was going through. I bottled everything inside and somehow I had to make the pain go away and that’s when I began to cut. Soon enough it kept going and I was thinking about suicide. Well sure enough it was that day, but my attempt failed because my cousin realized that I wasn’t okay. When I went to school the next day I felt as though everyone could see through my fake smile. I cried in the bathroom stalls, praying for help, and screaming inside; but no one saw that. The only person they saw was an attention seeking, drama queen, who always over reacted. I stopped eating, I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin anymore. I even passed out a couple times at school due to starvation and dehydration. My grades kept sinking and nothing was going right. And then it was summer and I stopped my bad habits of drinking, smoking, and getting high. I got closer to God that summer but it seems all a dream now.
When high school began first semester was great and I met new friends and dropped bad friends. During second semester I started hearing more and more rumors again. Now bullying had gone from just verbal to physical. So then the cutting started again and it became an addiction because I couldn’t stop I had to cut every day the voices would tell me. One day school was so bad, I took scissors to the bathroom and cut six times. My best friend at the time Brittany, knew I had been crying and when she saw me in class she slammed her hands down on my desk and said “Alright whose ass do I need to kick”. I just laughed, a real laugh that I hadn’t heard in a while, and shook my head. This actually ended up saving my life that night.
It was summer again and everything was well until my “friend” Rebekah texted me and told me we couldn’t be friends anymore. It tore me apart. I got my gun I had hidden under my bed, I placed it up against my temple, and pulled the trigger. The gun wasn’t loaded. Later that summer I found out it was a dare and she actually followed through with it. She apologized and I forgave her. But we haven’t talked since.
In tenth grade everything started out okay, until drama started. I honestly can’t even remember exactly what it was about but I know it lead me to terrible things. I didn’t eat for weeks. I lied to my parents told them I ate lunch, but I would purge after dinner. I got a boyfriend… His name was Trey. I thought he was a good guy until he began sexually, physically, and verbally abusing me. My cousin actually broke up with him through a text message for me because I was so afraid of him. At the time we broke up I was talking to another guy his name was Nick. I screwed up my relationship with my family because no one ever told me he had actually dated my cousin. And turns out my whole family still thinks I broke up with Trey for Nick, which was not the case but yet I couldn’t tell them the truth. I told my mom I was cutting only because my Trey threatened to tell her if I didn’t get back together with him. I broke her heart down to tiny pieces, the one thing you never want to hear your mother say is “I’m not a good mother to my daughters.” She blamed herself for my sister and I’s decisions we made. She sent me to a counselor and the counselor helped some and she also sent me to a nutritionist whom I hated, that diagnosed me with anorexia. I was diagnosed and put on medication for depression and anxiety by my psychologist. I started cheering at a local all star gym and I had stopped cutting for a month. Then my mom and I started fighting, arguing, not seeing eye to eye. It was to the point I wanted to move out of that house or just die. We were on a family vacation at Disney World in Florida, that is when my dad hit me and my mom saw it. But this wasn’t the first time it had happened, it was only the first time my mom knew about. I thought my family was going to be torn apart, I knew it would be my fault, and I was scared. I kept the past abuse a secret from everyone. But I met a girl that was a little older than me, she was actually considered a coach at the gym. But one night she decided to message me on Twitter because my tweets sounded upsetting and she wanted to check on me. She changed my life. She’s always called me her lil and she will forever be my big. We share many unforgettable memories together and we are always there for each other. But things got bad and I started cutting again, not eating again, and was sent to Cone Behavioral Health Center and was kept there for the weekend. Once I was released and able to cheer again that is what I did.
I then got another boyfriend, Josh, a preacher’s kid. I met him through his sister because his sister and I cheered together. I thought I was head over heels for him until he began to treat me as a sex toy. So I felt not good enough, not pretty or perfect enough for him to actually care for. I stopped eating again, I was rushed to the hospital due to lack of nourishment and dehydration. He came to see me in the hospital, but he left when I had to stay over night. We got into a fight because my parents found out we were having sex, and that was it. I lost him and my “little sister” at the same time. My parents were still fighting with me, but I was doing well only cutting every now and then. Thanks to my “big” for helping me, supporting me, and loving me through all the ups and downs.
That summer I did some things I really regret because I think back to them and all I want to do is go back and never let them happen but I can’t. My cousin and I started to have feelings for each other… and it all started the day he jokingly smacked my butt. Things escalated from there, but we never had sex. We were at my Nana’s one night together and I was getting something to drink out of the refrigerator and he walked up behind me and grabbed my waist and pulled me backwards towards him. In that moment my Nana comes out of her bedroom and sees us. She starts yelling at us. I run to my bag, grab my blade, go to the bathroom and cry and cut and text my mom before the word gets to her before I do. I have never felt like a bigger disappointment to my entire family… I felt like everyone knew by the time I saw them all again. I was so embarrassed but it soon passed over. We both still talk and hangout now but we are never as close as we used to be.
I was now a high school senior and I had another boyfriend he first treated me with respect, care, and love and I fell for his games. Soon it was just a relationship that revolved around sex, again. I started to feel like that was all I was good for. Nothing made sense for me to be alive anymore because no one would ever treat me like the human being that I am. I dealt with bullying from my peers while I dated him because he was twenty and I was only 16-17. He broke up with me over the phone because he “needed space” it killed me because he was the first guy to actually treat me like a girl should be treated.
It was about mid September of 2014, when things got bad again. I didn’t want to go to school, I begged mom to home school me, I had panic attacks every day at school more than one every hour. School was literally killing me. Mom took the time to research what she could do to help me. She found a home-bound student program that took a while to go through. So I stayed at home, while once a week, one teacher would come to my house to give me work, pick up work, watch me take tests, and help me however I needed help. My life started turning around and I had planned to graduate early.
I was tested for ADD/ADHD in January 2015, finally I got the help I needed all along. ADD/ADHD stands for Attention Deficit-Hyperactivity Disorder, however I have a rare form of the disorder that connects to anxiety, depression, anorexia, and suicidal thoughts and actions. The doctor took me off my depression medication and put me on a starter dose of ADHD medication. All this time I was finally out of high school and I was still cheering for my all star team, I still had my “big,” but now I was on a younger team. I became a role model to most of them, but I became a big sister to one of them. I took her in just like my big took me in. This sisterhood brought joy to my life. I started to get better like really better. I was happy. I started going to college cheer practices and eventually tried out for my college cheer team. I didn’t want to find out if I made the team or not until after my all star teams last competition and I wanted to find out with them because they are the people who impacted my life so much that I wanted to keep going. That day after competition, Mother’s Day 2015, I cried tears of joy with my team because I knew it was the end of one journey and the beginning of another because I made the college team. That competition weekend I became really close to my “lil’s” family. She had a brother, Christopher, whom I began to be interested in. I had told myself and her before that I would never do that mistake again. But it wasn’t a mistake at all. I started dating him May 25, 2015. I opened up to him about my life and my past and he’s supported me, encouraged me, and helped me through every step of the way.
The summer before my freshman year at college was hectic to say the least. Running around town shopping for those “dorm essentials” and he followed me every step of the way. I had to have knee surgery that jeopardized my potential cheerleading career because I tore my meniscus. But he was there through it all, taking care of me when he could, giving my mom a break. His sister/my “lil” got mad/upset with us, it tore me apart to a point I thought about saving our friendship over my relationship. But I talked to their mom about things because if anyone knew both of them the best it was definitely their mom. She said to keep trying for my “lil” and trying to involve her. She said she would realize one day that she is going to be okay. Even though he had one more year of high school and we knew the distance would be hard we persevered. As a college freshman cheerleader, life was busy to say the least. If I didn’t have class, I had practice or lifts; if I didn’t have practice or lifts, I had a game; if I didn’t have a game, I had homework; if I didn’t go home, my family and Christopher would come see me. But my friendship with my “lil” started drifting away no matter how hard I tried. I felt like a failure and I cut again. I had forgotten how amazing it felt. That winter I was able to talk to my “lil” and spend some important time with her and we have been sisters ever since.
Summer 2016 rolls around and freshman year felt like a big blur. I had lost weight but gained muscle and I was happy with my body. But I had torn the same meniscus as the year before, but I had surgery earlier that summer. And he again took care of me whenever he could, balancing out school, homework, and chores. Soon our one year rolled around, I couldn’t believe after all these relationships ending at about two months each I had been with Christopher for a year. He got me a promise ring and I had never felt more special, real, or loved ever before. I secretly went to “Senior Week” with Christopher. I had alcohol again, but not too much. But I really did have fun, it was a big step for me to get out there but I am glad I did. But at the end of summer it was hard… He had made a promise to come to college with me the following year. I had warned him about the expense. I told him he didn’t have to come. But he promised me. When it started getting closer to time to start back he realized the truth in what I had been telling him. And he broke that promise. We got through it though. And I went back to college but this time as an education major and a normal sophomore.
Fall semester of sophomore year was really stressful for me. I was taking too many credit hours and becoming more stressed. I started realizing the people around me that had become friends to me were actually hurting me more. I cut every so often.. I distanced myself away from them only to find a really good friend. Me and my boyfriend are great. I am still fighting anorexia, cutting, and the constant voices in my head. I have new medications for panic attacks and anxiety, ADHD, insomnia, and allergies. I have now been diagnosed as ADHD, severe anxiety, mild depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified (EDNOS), Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD), Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), asthma, and other allergies. These disorders are not exactly a choice… because if they were I wouldn’t choose them. But they don’t define who I am they just make my personality complicated. I write to vent, to keep me going, to help get emotions out a safe way.
I hope my story encourages you that even if you feel like you have hit rock bottom that there is always another perspective. I know that I am not perfect and I make mistakes but I am human. I am learning and growing to be better, it isn’t easy and I may fail. But one day it will be worth it. I’ve gotten closer with God recently thanks to the inspiration of NF music. But it doesn’t make the relationship with him any easier. I do know this, that God still loves you no matter how many times you fail, disappoint, or push him away.
Psalms 34:18 “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.”
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A few days ago, a classmate noticed the cuts on my wrist.
Today, a friend of mine saw the cuts too.
I told them it was nothing, that I only got them for being mean to cats (Don’t get me wrong, I love cats.). I know what I said was such an awful thing to say especially when even you can see the truth beyond your own lie. It’s just that I couldn’t quite think of anything to use as an alibi anymore.
I’m afraid sooner, more people would start to notice the slashes on my wrist and think I’m a weirdo, or worse they might think I’m someone trying to get the crowd’s attention. What I’m even more afraid of is if my parents ever find out about it.
Cutting makes the pain easier but if it will only lead to more of them, shall I stop?
I should. I know more than anything that I should stop. But even so, I know I can’t. It’s like oxygen. Essential. Refreshing. Life-sustaining. Addicting.
Now, I do not know what else to do.
I couldn’t blame the cuts on my wrist for being so noticeable.
I couldn’t blame my friends if they ever find out about the cuts someday and overreact.
I couldn’t blame anyone else for being the reason why I cut.
I could only blame myself.
What shall I do to hide the wounds?
What shall I do to keep people from knowing how vulnerable I am?
Firstly, I should sorry for my English, I’m not a native speaker. So, okay…
Why am I can’t be just happy? Why I have to bear all this pain, hiding deep inside in me? I only want to smile so heartily as I was smiling before but it seems to me that I need to wait a lot of time before I can say that I am really happy. I just hate to wear this mask, to behave like everything is okay, to lie to myself that this time will end soon.
I’m tired. I’m so tired of it…
It’s started in the beginning of August, and I honestly thought my depression is finally over in the end of October but now I’m understanding that this depression only became weaker but didn’t disappear at all.
I hardly can find the reason why am I feeling so sad last time. I’ve got great parents who truly love me, I’ve got awesome sisters and brother, I’ve got the best friends ever… But I feel like I lost something important for me. One important detail that made me happy.
I want to be hugged by someone who really loved me. No matter, will it be friend’s love or parents’. I only want to feel myself safe… It’s killing me. I want to disappear for some weeks. Or for months. Or forever.
I’m tired and I need help.
Dear anyone who reads this. Usually the things posted here are own personal feelings or deep despair. But I offer a different message. To everyone whose hurting or feeling alone, theres probably one other person in this world who knows how you feel. This world is huge with billions of people and possibilities and out of all those people I’m sure a whole lot more would be will to just listen. And if you think theres absolutely no-one. Theres me. So find that one thing, one person and hold tight. I encourage everyone to reach out, its better to be sad with someone then sad alone. best wishes.
I post rarely, but when I do, it is normally impotent to me. I understand if no one once to hear me, I’m used to it, but if you read this, please help.
So I doing a bunch of midterm, and I don’t give a fuck. There are so many things that are learned in school that is a waste of time. For example, foreign language even though today’s modern day uses technology. Also I am not a dummy, but I’m not a genius, but everyone wants me be a straight A student. I have a few choices in life, but not enough to control my life. I don’t know what to do because once I’m done with school, what will I do. So I’m not living my own life the way I want to, and I can’t take care of my self, so it seems like death is my best answer. I have supplies need to end my life, know I just need to take the next step and do it.
Please help me!!!!!
I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling. I think I might be addicted (?) or I like being sad. Like even when I’m happy and I’m in a good place, suddenly at the middle of the night, I try to find some reason to make myself sad and angry about myself. I like the feeling of being sad and having that sting in your chest and feeling all alone as if no one cares about me even when I know it’s not true. I don’t really like it as I love it like a hobby but there are times when I find myself doing that and I’m confused whether I really am in a better place than I was before or not.
I don’t really know how to elaborate, but if anyone knows how they can help me please do.
Thank you though, for those who do.
Much love, Andrea
im 21 years old and I don’t know what I feel anymore. When I was 12 I used to cut myself I was going through a tough time at home but I managed to sort out my head. Lately the past few months me and my boyfriend of two years haven’t been seeing eye to eye and me and my dad are constantly arguing. My job pays nothing and my family are always on my back to find something else but they don’t know how hard it is! I have five brothers and sisters so you can imagine the pressure of growing up and having to be as perfect. I can’t talk to anyone and all I keep thinking about is ending it all just ending my life and I keep telling myself it would be easier for everyone if I did it. I have read a few books on people who have done it and the reproccussions it has on family members an friends but I honestly don’t think mine would care. I just need someone to talk to I just need a friend to understand.
Why can’t someone see, that I’m hurting?
Why can’t I just break?
Why aren’t I breaking?
Why is it when people yell horrible things at me, I stay silent?
Why can’t I fight back?
Why can’t I end it?
Why do I feel this way?
I’ve been wondering what you all (out there in cyberspace) consider to be the answer to your problems. I know there are some out there who feel there is no hope at all and they should just end it all. You could be sitting in your room right now about to do some thing you can’t take back. So why not give this a thought? What would help you?
I once attended Job Corps in my early twenties. I found that having EVERY THING planned out for me really helped me develop a routine that I couldn’t/can’t do on my own. It’s been years since I’ve been there but for months after attending there, I was much more active in keeping a clean environment and actually getting myself to move. My mind constantly runs on dark thoughts and feelings of emptiness so when every thing was done for me, I didn’t have to think much about what I was supposed to do and just followed a list.
Wake up at 6 AM
Fix the bed
Complete the chore assigned to me on that day
Head to school
Complete another list of tasks pertaining to the trade I was in (I didn’t do too well with this)
After school go back to the dorm and do what ever the heck you wanted.
Simple things. My JC center was in the middle of the woods and QUITE beautiful. So my closest friend and I would sneak off campus deep into the woods to smoke some marjie and meditate. It was the most peaceful and wonderful experience that I wish I could experience again. We had VERY limited communication with the outside world so the campus was practically life.
I didn’t complete my time there. I had an altercation with a young lady that I tried to help… but it blew up in my face some how and I pretty much let my emotions get the best of me, so I left. That was a mistake. I miss that life. And I’m sure if I had continued, it would have probably helped me get some where much farther than I am now.
Would you try to die without dying? Escape some where beautiful and secluded, where every thing is planned for you and all you have to do is follow? Leave behind every thing and every one you knew until you could feel yourself coming alive again?
A lot of the stress I experience comes from the people around me and their perceptions of me. I don’t care what anyone says, a lifetime of being judged can either turn you into someone who cares too much or someone who cares too little. Both are detrimental.
How would you feel to go some where, where every one suffered more or less the same? People who understand your plight in every way and wont tell you that you’re just a lazy waste of life… or have assumptions of who you are or who you’re suppose to be?
How would you feel if this place was staffed with people who DO NOT think pills are the answer and are there for you? Filled with classes ranging different subjects from building your drive to learning how to feed your body and soul?
What is YOUR cure??
So, im 15 i know im young but, i just need some answers. I’ve been wanting to kill myself since i was around 10. i’ve really lost all the people i care for and ive had a crappy life.
My little brother told me to kill myself already. So, did my bestfriend/ex he also told me to kill myself too. My parents arent the worse but, they arent the best too. My biological father lives god knows where now, and is good for nothing. My mother is always stressed out and snaps at me alot. My step father was abusive but, has changed his ways… hes still angry most of the time though. The only slightly good person in my life is my little sister even though she hates me most of the time.
But, past all of that i need some help with choosing a way to die. Tylenol overdoes, drowning, cars, hanging, etc. There just so many to choose from its hard to pick. If its not to much to ask i would like some help trying to decide or you can try to convince me to not kill myself. At this point i just want some help…
what are some of your guys’ experience with anti depressants. getting to that low point again the days are so hard to get through. it feels like being around people is making me depressed because Im around so many people but also so alone at the same time. I don’t understand why its so hard for me to talk to the people I want to talk to.
Ive been struggling to find someone to talk to recently as i dont feel im doing the best.
I tried the online counselling but they all need payment details to actually talk to someone professional.
I just want someone who knows what im going through to pay attention and offer advice because i honestly feel so lonely atm.
Id really appreciate a message… For the record im also a really good listener!