i’m not sure why, but i have this weird feeling that i won’t grow to be old. i mean, i can’t imagine myself living until i’m, what, ninety?
Yesterday on my way to work i passed a man. He was looking up and chanting, probably praying, Â his hand was reached out. I pulled out my wallet and took some money out, returned and gave it to the man, when i looked in to his eyes, i understood that he is blind. My heart broke. I admire him, he keeps on living…. then i started to wonder why? How do all these people take it? Why wont they end it?
The human lives when he is loved, the human lives when he desires… but when that is lost. All that is left is the instinct to survive. What if were really here to overcome this instinct? To stop when we had enough? what if suicide is the right way out? What if depression is not an illness but a higher state of mind, warning us that were ready for new realms.
Can someone understand what am i rambling here about
or am i just gone insane up to 100%? What do you think?
May 8, 2013
Today is the day that the (I guess you can call it “my”) story is written.
Now i’m 19 years old. My body a nest for scars and memories that should have been long forgotten. Not all scars have stayed with me, and i hope that one day i’ll be free from them all. The sad reality of it is that some of those scars will never leave my skin, and always be a reminder of what i have done. It’s been mere days shy of 6 months without cutting myself for the relief that i have so desperately wanted during this time. The tendencies that cause me to cut have been strong recently, and “cutting instinct” is facing off against a brain that knows it can go without.
To tell the story we can’t just say at this time period so we must go back to the beginning and start from there.
I cut intentionally for the first time. It was in the shower by sliding a disposable razor across the curve of my wrist. The damage was very small, but got the blood flowing enough to show me how easy it was to cause a small amount of blood to my call.
I was in a state of mind that aided cutting as a relief. I had nothing to cut with though. Then i remembered the old disposable razors that were littering the shower shelf, and i thought one definitive thought. “These have small razor blades in them”. Staring at a encased blade i began prying it apart with my fingers. Tools may have been helpful in this, but i needed to access them right now. I did in fact get the razors out after much work with my hands breaking the plastic holding them in place, and then i had 3 extra thin, extra short razor blades. I promptly put these to use, and cut 2 shallow lines one in my wrist and one in my thigh.
I began cutting around 2 inch long lines occasionally, but did so only on my thighs since the wrist cut earlier drew attention.
By this time my thighs had a few markings on them, but the cuts were so shallow that no long term scarsÂ occurred. I realized around this point that i had few friends in school, and started to focus on online games and school more. Many would think when i say “few friends” that i had 8 maybe 5 friends total, and you should probably think that. In reality i had a “couple” friends. Yes, i had 2 people who i considered my friends, and i’m not even sure they considered me a friend. I began loading up onÂ high schoolÂ classes next semester (first half of the year i took 5 credits), and no life-ingÂ video games. (currentlyÂ sophomoreÂ year- I took 13 credits as a freshmen) Note: Normal per year is 11 credits 5 one semester and 6 the next.
I was focused on the future intently. My vision was not of today or tomorrow. My vision was of afterÂ high school. This semester i took Â enough credits to finish the year with 14 total credits. The emptiness inside was starting to creep in slowly though. I resorted to video games even more than school work since i had very little to do that i couldn’t finish inside the classroom. During this time my parents were gone for 4 days during a time when i had Â school. I used this time toÂ achieveÂ 99 cooking on Runescape.
The math of this boils down to 42k fish/1.3k fish per hour = 32.3 hours. This means that i spent 32.3 hours of my time on this game in just over 4 days on one occasion (8 hours a day average+ 9 hour school day + food and hygiene and not a lot of time remains)
During this time i had less ambition to cut mainly due to staying so busy with other things, but the cuts started to pile up still. The cuts also got more defined as i got more comfortable with cutting.
Cutting became a normal thing to me. It was no longer anÂ occasionalÂ thing. It was casual, and felt like it was part of my routine. Cutting started to manifest in new ways as i was just comfortable with it. The word “ME” got carved into my thigh (stillÂ noticeableÂ if you know what your looking for). “LIE” and “LovE”also got put into my skin, but they did eventually heal all the way.
The cutting continues piled up in large amounts in areas threatening to overflow onto skin that is visible to the light. I decide that i will shuffle my cuts around when i do them allowing me to cut more place, but also making large rows of cuts a thing of the past. The word “PAIN” became printed on my upper thigh though cutting later becoming mostlyÂ unnoticeable.
I got stuck taking a slack foods class with one of my only 2 “friends”. By this time friend #1 was just using me he really hasn’t talked to me for a full year+ now since he doesn’t need my help. When i do hear from him it’s just to make his life easier, and this other friend in my foods class really didn’t give a rip about anyone, but himself. (one of those kids who think they are above laws, and they can do anything they want also). Up until this point i had almost no connection to girls at my high school (let’s face it almost no connection with anyone at all). One in particular i worked with often and we got along well though. Something seemed like it could maybe blossom out of this, but later she took a disliking to men as a whole (officially bi…i think?). She ended up calling a freshmen to the prom with her the class hour i was going to ask her to it…i was shocked. My friend #2 spent the rest of the hour telling me about his prom date, and asking me if i was going with anyone. I ended up chopping vegetables minutes from the end of class and decided to chop my finger also in this process. It was a fairly deep cut on my index finger and took close to 10 minutes to stop bleeding.
I was at the peak of my cutting. I could hide nearly anything, and always had viable excuses ready to go just in case of questioning. They were real things that could happen to make the excuses better. Scratched by a cat…HA, i think not! an example of a real excuse is a cut from carrying sheet metal. Words lightly cut into my skin so they wouldn’t scar littered my legs, and having all different meanings even the latin word “NEX” meaning death. Cuts were healing at the same rate i put them on myself meaning i didn’t increase or decrease my cutting for periods of time. The average cutting session consisted of anywhere from 3-20 cuts (6 maybe average).
I continued as normal my cutting routine, by this time i hadÂ acquired other cutting utensils, but didn’t use anything besides a utility knife blade or disposable razor blades (both options dull-ish i suppose)Â little did i know that the next month would be different.
This month started as any other had, and around the middle of the month i ended up carving “FML” Â in large letters into my thigh. 2 days later my parents would find my box of objects and throw them away(they were in a metalÂ AltoidsÂ tin that had long since expired) without any razors, and knowing how close i was to getting caught caused me to stop from then on out. Although i have stopped for nearly 6 months, the tension is building to start again-and i just might.
I stopped taking my meds.By the end of the month i will have enough.I just hope i get the courage to go all the way.In the past ive been scared and gotten help.dont know why i keep doing that?although im pretty sure theyd let me bleed to death at the hospital.Ive been there to many times for them to care.I remember taking my psych meds and i almost suffocated.Funny how just when your dying instinct kicks in and you fight to live.Damn i wish i could stop doing this already.But the crazy side of me just wants to keep trying.Who knows if ill die this time or not.But it beats feeling numb,It beats feeling like you have no future.It beats feeling.
Beautiful and vibrant as can be,
Thatâ€™s how they remember me,
So far from what I used to be,
I hid from the world; you see,
Skin so smooth and fair,
Now scarred and dry,
I still have my beautiful hair,
But I changed so much it makes me cry.
I cry myself to sleep when no oneâ€™s there,
Trying to accept the damaged look,
So much lost; I canâ€™t even start where,
Dusty covers, lost pages, judge the book!
Of all clichÃ©s this one I will never forget,
Passing through life betwixt and between,
In the end all youâ€™re left with is regret,
Was I made to be a warrior- only to never win?
Tell me the point of being called proficient,
When you can never believe it yourself,
Programmed never to reply to what is sent,
The girl bred to repudiate herself.
Never finished what I started,
And probably never will,
Was I that stone-hearted?
To watch myself grow ill,
Perhaps I didnâ€™t notice,
Letâ€™s assume that I never knew,
A nightmare I will call this,
Pinch me will you?
Pinch me as hard as you can, I beg you.
Pinch me till I cry and till I bleed,
Just wake me from my misery will you!
Excruciating pain with nothing to yield,
Could it be fate behind all these?
Was I meant to crash and burn?
Was I supposed to feel unease?
But from all, what did I earn?
Maybe I donâ€™t deserve the life given to me,
I probably never did,
My instinct tells me it wasnâ€™t supposed to be,
A poisonous seed,
I was made only to disappear,
I was cared for; for I was a reserve,
Chances are Iâ€™ll only reappear,
When I finally deserve,
To relive my life the way I used to do,
See life the way I used to see,
When I become good enough for you,
When I become what I used to be.
***Im not a poet Im not good in english at all. I just write dumb poems when i feel like giving up on life. My way of talking to myself since I don’t have anyone to talk to.
The Jiangchuan offensive, the same as changing people cool heart pleasing to the eye. In my core, Jiangchuan team favorably Nanyang nothing sharp again and again ripped Nanyang line of defense, nike nfl jerseys,the basketball into the basket.
The tenth minute of the time, the score 21:18. The Jiangchuan team leading to one-third, the situation appears to be evenly divided.
“Flute!” Whistle sounded, Nanyang team called the first half of the first suspension.
Chen Qifeng particularly satisfied with the current score happy grinning: “Hey, see it, is now leading us yeah!” Unknowingly Chen Qifeng himself as a Jiangchuan a.
Geng Tianfang look calm water, lightly: “The first half was just beginning general, are pleased never too early? Jiangchuan although leading third of the situation according to go so dominant, but we Nanyang it you will not be excited dizzy head, blind even that can not see, do you? ”
Easy Chen Qifeng Road: “this problem Ajun will be solved. Jiangchuan team as long as there to Arjuna in absolutely will not lose.”
Geng Tianfang coldly glanced Chen Qifeng silent.
He did not speak, but someone next opening. Next two foreign lad was asked: “The situation in the South Seas dominant, what words to understand how” turned out to be pure Chinese speaking white youths Mike.
Chen Qifeng Yaran tracks the sound looked as if around them until the moment just turned two foreigners sitting. The two foreigners looked up and down under the other professional instinct concluded in front of fellow human. Size Chen Qifeng and no excessive watching. Neither haughty nor humble, Chen Qifeng smiled and explained: “Competition overthrow now, Jiangchuan and Nanyang tactics you also an insight into the unrestrained with the Compared to the Nanyang changing tactics, Jiangchuan to be monotonous many. Throughout the audience ten sign players dribbling cut disrupt each other’s defense, the most accurate ball came at the most appropriate time, or directly own shot basket to score, this is the Jiangchuan tactics. ”
“That also no problem, ah, Coach Purses outlet,the other there is no way to block the passing of the 10th is not it?” Mike still puzzled.
Chen Qifeng shook his head, said: “Nanyang team yet to play a real strength so far, Jiangchuan team except the 10th, about the strength of the other players to have bottomed out, the Nanyang team up, but also to play 80% of the strength.”
Size, strength difference of more than one grade, the other in the power of the basket is full high school, but I have to do this thankless thing. Zhang Zhanwei Nanyang defensive central figure in one of the offensive score points. So far, Nanyang team, one-third of the score is Zhangzhan Wei won.
Must be the total collapse of the core of the job.
Zhang Zhanwei the ball with his back to the basket, nfl jerseys authentic,feet moving, the brain warning signs dawned.
“Ah ……” soon Ju Hou, Zhang Zhanwei back to the basket leaps, air, turn around, shooting hoops – the air suddenly one hand there have been waiting, Zhang Zhanwei shooting baskets slightly met! This, of course, is my hand.
“WHACK!” Basketball from the basket on the high jump.
“Rebound!” Basket at the same time a few stout figure positive scraping position. Silhouette flashed the Zhang Zhanwei ready to jump in front suddenly emerge from behind a figure in the blink of an eye, stand in front of him. Jump, “WHACK!” Air one-handed basketball left hook.
“Cold Wenjun, run …”
Already run! This guy does not know when it has been washed in the top. The hands of basketball throw, basketball toward the Nanyang basket high boomerang. Cold Wenjun full run and grab to get the ball before Luo Xu, first time shooting baskets, “Shua!” Into the basket and score!
69:57 worse twelfth!
Look at the time, there are four minutes fifteen seconds.
“There is no time, faster grab ah!”
The Jiangchuan defense seems slightly revealing a trace of neutral, Liu reputation must attack the pass, basketball to the hands of Liang Hong, Elite nfl jerseys,a show of hands, ready to shoot baskets this?
“Pop!” Crisp voice, Kitano wind from behind the defensive when hit wrist of LiangHong. The referee course not did not hear the shooting foul.
Like the Kitano wind looks depressed, but back Nanyang players, but I quietly toward him put up a thumb.
“Smack!” Liang Hong’s first ball hit the rim, went into!
The free throw line stand a good position, ready to grab rebounds. Jiangchuan team and Kitano wind stood first overall.
“Popping” sound bang hit the basket.
I’m a fifteen year old girl in the 10th grade and I have never felt so miserable in my entire life. I’m tired of being that optimistic girl that fakes a smile for the sake of everyone else. Most of my friends know about my depression but they think I’m okay at the moment. Last night I was almost positive I wanted to die, but instead of acting on the instinct to kill myself, I just lied in bed shaking and crying. I could never tell my mom that I feel like I want to die sometimes because it would either break her heart or she would think I’m looking for attention. Without going into my life story, all I can say is that I’ve been extremely depressed for the last four years now. It’s the worst feeling and I honestly don’t think I can handle life anymore. Each day I wake up I just feel worse. The thing I’m confused about is if I truly want to die or not. I’m scared but I do often think that things would be so much easier if I was dead. The funny thing is that the real reasons that I’m scared to die is because I’m afraid that it’ll hurt. I’m also afraid that I’ll be missing out on something and that I’ll regret it, which is ironic because I’ll be dead. I’ve considered suicide and I’ve attempted to act on it but not far enough to really kill myself or harm myself. I remember two times that I was almost positive I was going to kill myself. The first was at home after my mom and gone to work and we had been in a huge argument. I was in my room and constructed a noose out of one of my belts and hung it in the closet before trying to hang myself. I didn’t have it around my neck tight enough to not be able to get out of it. I struggled for a bit trying to breath before giving up on trying to kill myself. I wanted to make sure that it wasn’t just me being upset because of the argument me and my mom had or if I really wanted to die. The second time was at my boarding school. I have a huge bottle of melatonin because I have insomnia. I had a bunch of pills in my hands that I was determined to swallow, but I couldn’t. I was terrified. I have labeled myself a coward. I’m scared to die but I don’t want to live. I cry almost every day because of how much I hate myself. I don’t like being around people because I hate putting on my fake smile, but when I’m alone I just want to die. I have never felt so much pressure in my life and at this stage I just don’t know what I want or what I want to do. Am I just really depressed, or do you think I should talk to someone about these suicidal thoughts?
Random Reminiscing , cos’ I let mom read the instructions..
(just like the bubble gum components being molded by our mouth, exchanging places to nowhere )
My clothes, school books, mags, and other toys for big men were designated to be inherited by my close relatives. I really thought she would be happy when she realizes my breathing identity is about to disappear from this lively planet, instead she scolded me, saying I had to help my brothers raise their family. So I wondered again, Am I really just the one selfish? or does it just runs in the family? Nah, we were programmed both from our conception and thru our education (parental, formal, and peers) to help one another, and protect the human race. A tool, I felt like a tool, but I didnt really mind being used -I mean what’s so wrong about it? We used their cash, we use different people’s time, effort, knowledge, and wisdom (This is the internet, did you make it? no one did, but we did, right?).
Is it not that family/ kinship is the 2nd unit for totality of our kind?Â I know it
should would practically make sense that it is our main instinct.. To gain conviction and its vehicles to a meaningful life. Where hope and lost come as pairs to exist.Â It just doesn’t cut, no matter how much reading , watching, talking, and listening I do.. I wake up every week, if not every day to see a morning made ofÂ darkness nothing. By now, I sound like have no principles, pride, or faith in any kind.. well guess what, you’re right! (I’m actually talking to myself, knowing this would be published, am I now a hystrionic or Narcissist?) I have so much questions.. There were plenty of answers.. very, very plenty. But this memory of mine seems it has reached its limit. I don’t remember things well anymore.. I even forget simple things, distracted by the unmoving light and shadows. I failed, one after another. Again and again. I should be improving, I thought I did.. I really did, till self-disappointment slapped myself completely. Of course, everybody cared – I’m not being sarcastic, people do care, they just naturally prioritized themselves, don’t you? you prioritized what you know, what you think, you know what is right and wrong.. even when everyone thinks differently.. so nothing new? I ask myself, am I bored, or am I boring. Gaah! So which one deserves to live? (still talking to myself, don’t ask me why you’re reading this, just tell me why or whatever – Being curious is a pain, its one of those silly things that keeps me alive).
At this point, my S-thoughts disappear like a bubble.. guess it’s time to stick this gum somewhere in this site. Hope you don’t to touch it, that would be gross. FYI I dislike using metaphors, cos’ I can’t help to do so..
So stressed tonight – for I have typed more than a thousand words, and I still can’t speak English right? how’d I know you say? I don’t, I’m just repeating criticisms that point out my weaknesses to strengthen. Oh well, I’ll just have to keep on trying and trying till I die. I did say this was epic fail right?
“To down myself, was to humble myself, for my head flew so high, my feet could reach land no more
..and I drowned anyways” – Cage of the Cold (this is not a book, just an imaginary one when I daydream)
Ghosts of my dreams of voices hit me randomly. I can’t explain what I hear, but it sounds like a voice, but like a broken record player rapidly replays what it said, anxiety fills me and then the continuous ringing fills my ears again.
I wonder when I’ll dream of it again.Â
Dreamt i was part of a program to test things for money. We started out on a metal bed where I laid down and it began descending. Quicker and quicker until I was free failing. While there i was freaking out until i realized it would lead to my death so i calmed down and let myself die.Â
I opened my eyes and looked to the side and saw i was on the floor on the bed and nothing happened but i remembered it was electric shock therapy or something similar. It made me feel i was free falling. I got up and ended up in a room which was really fancy, it had red everything, a brick fireplace, large wooden table. The weird thing was the intercom spoke to me telling me about this test, it told me look at the mirror. I saw a man running at me, supposedly a murderer. I shook my head thinking it was fake, but I kept looking away and it kept getting closer. I started freaking out and panicking until I heard a voice behind me on the wooden table.Â
A big hulking man sat there and my first instinct was grab a spoon as a weapon. He told me to sit in front of him within spitting distance and I switched to a metal fork that was bent on the pointy parts. I tried unbending it and I broke the tips. Then I clenched my fists in case he would attack but ate some food.Â
Next i was at a cafeteria and went to get some food. For some reason I was exhausted and as i went for a plate. I kept falling on the ground and trying to reach the food until it let me. I grabbed pizza and had a choice between video game or movie (dvds and games in a pile next to food).Â
a kid looked at the pizza I chose and told me that it was large and plump i had a good eye. He asked if i liked the mushroom and i said no as i picked it off.Â
Next setting I was in a classroom the instructor, a 30 something year old woman was talking about the experiment, and my phone rang. It kept ringing as of someone called me thrice but took forever to hang up. I kept scrambling for the phone and the woman said if its important i should go get it, since she thought it was part of the experiment looking to talk about something the implanted in me.Â
For some reason, I checked my foot for the phone and finally after it stopped ringing saw my sock was ripped and found the phone next to my foot. I picked it up and saw some numbers and missed call on it and called back leaving the room.Â
I ended up in a gas station, and was about to buy sun chips and my cousin angel who i havent talked to in a while answered and i asked for his mom since she was part of the experiment apparently. Then I woke up and noticed 5 missed calls from my dad, and it the latest one was a minute ago.
‘Oh, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you.’
‘In the grander scheme of things, you are really insignificant.’
‘You’re too young.’
‘How can you expect anyone to care for you, to love you, if you don’t love yourself?’
‘We’ve spent this much money on you, the least you can do is pay us back.’
Yeah. Okay. I comprehend that. I don’t stop thinking aboutÂ them for a moment.
But I’m 19 years old and I am tired. I am tired of clawing my way through classes, I am tired of not being able to look anyone in the eye because I’m afraid of them, I am tired of not wanting to wake up in the morning because I feel so miserable about myself.
I don’t have to want for anything, save for my loftiest desires. I come from a good family.
I found this site by accident while I was looking for prison letters.
I have a recurring dream. In it, there’s always some major event happening. A wedding, a reunion, a funeral. Some odd, out-of-place location. Everyone’s so happy. I am dimly aware of what’s going on. It feels like my higher thinking functionabilities have been turned off, leavingÂ onlyÂ instinct and animalistic senses. I’m furious. Trying so hard to get away, to stay away from the revelers because I know I’ll do something bad. The place turns into a labyrinth. The principal person of attention is forcing his/her merry way into my path, and no matter what I do, I can’t shake him/her. S/he manages to blockade my path. Blank rage overtakes me as I tear him/her apart. Then I wake up.
This little number has been keeping me awake for the past two months. It’s playing on my mind, the fear that I’ll lose my sanity, that, in the end,Â I’ll be reduced to nothing more than an indiscriminate, bloodthirsty animal.
I think that I’ll be better off with peace. That it’d be better for me and for everyone involved in my life if I just disappeared altogether.
There’s a plethora of things I want to do. I don’t feel I have the passion to keep working for it. I don’t know what I want to do with my life besides travelling the world and seeing everything. I don’t feel much to contributing to mankind. I’m selfish that way. I figure, there’s at least thousands of kids fighting to top, one person gallivanting away won’t make a difference. ‘One person can make a difference’, alright, fine, but statistically the odds are against it.
I know my flaws. I don’t do anything to change them. I don’t have the courage to kill myself, nor the effort to live my damn life. Useless. Why am I so useless.
I stay here, I play out my freaking drama, because I know this is the worst punishment I can dole myself. Having to live with it. Having to live with my family’s disappointment, my own disappointment, my fears, my sadness, my doubts, my thoughts, my endless thoughts. I deserve to suffer for my inabilities and live with my mistakes. Death is too easy. I mean, there’s no guarantee of heaven, hell or purgatory, so that leaves nonexistence. Simple. Peaceful. Too good for me.
But then I’m punishing the people around me. And the cycle starts over again. And again. And again.
I won’t be satisfied living my middle-class life for the rest of my life. My dreams have never been small. Take over the world. Open a new dimension in the space frontier. Find the cure for cancer. Become president. Be a mysterious and disgustingly rich benefactor to everyone. Find another world. They’re all impossible. At least for this era. I’ll never be satisfied with what I have, I’ll always want more. Disgusting, isn’t it? When you think a continent of people would be happy knowing there’s always a meal on the table, that they’ll have the opportunity to go to school, that they’re allowed to dream of bigger things instead of concentrating on the squalor and abuse of their lives?
For a supposedly highly intelligent person, I am dumb as a mule. I’m failing nearly everything because I don’t go to classes. I don’t go to classes because that involves being among crowds of people, and I can’t handle that. I can’t handle being in a room of people. That would make things difficult in the future since you can’t avoid people for the rest of your life. They’re just there.
I want it to stop. I want to stop. How can I stop being this miserable, self-pitying, loathsome thing that I’ve become? Does someone have an answer? I’d love to hear it. I need to hear something other than, ‘don’t think about it all, just concentrate on yourself’, I AM. ALL I THINK ABOUT IT IS MYSELF. HOW HORRIBLE I AM FOR OTHERS. IT’S NOT WORKING. CAN’T CONTROL THE WAY MY MIND GOES, I RUN OUT OF TOPICS. AND IT’S KIND OF HARD WITH ALL THE CONTRADICTORY ADVICE.
‘Don’t think about it.’
‘Remember all that we’re doing for you.’
WHAT THE HELL SHOULD I DO THEN. BECAUSE I HAVE NOÂ FRIGGING CLUE.
it’s my birthday this friday, 26 I think. I’m 99% sure 26 but I don’t want to shatter the veil of ignorance I’m under by calculating it or trying to remember how old I’ll be. I remember rhyming about being 25 some time ago but that could have been 2 years ago.
Anyway, I’m moving today or tomorrow. My odyssey in my mothers jungle of an apartment is over, hopefully. I thought it was over once before but their were rats in the ceiling of the new place. I’ve gotta be sure to do another check at this current place I want, but it seems good. I’ll be out and away again and I don’t really feel as excited as I should.
I’m sober so I don’t feel much right now. I decided to spend my days sober; I flip flop constantly and I forget the reason why I want to be sober now. I don’t have any reasons to. I was googling about last night for reasons that people choose to quit sedating themselves, but none of it applies to me. I don’t care about my body or getting anywhere. yadda yadda yadda, I have no plans for the future. There’s nothing I want. My crippling fear of strangers keeps me from following any of my dreams, leaves me demoralized beyond recognition.
The strong thing to do would be to go see my doctor, be straight up and tell him that I didn’t quit sedating when he told me to and that I’d like to be put on anti-anxiety pills or whatever will take away my instinct to cower away from others. I’m positive that the barrier between me and others has been chemically reinforced by my playing bill nye with my brain chemistry (been withdrawn/anti-social since I was 2). I don’t do anything serious like booze, cigs or blow; just herb (at least not considered serious by people of our time; I wonder what people will have to say about herb in 50 years). But, I’ve got a weak, addictive personality and abuse anything that offers easy gratification.
I don’t want anything right now, even when I’m not sober. Right now, I mean in this chunk of time. I’m not sure where this chunk ends, if it does, if I’ll ever want anything again. I’m only sure of that my brain isn’t functioning correctly at all. I can’t stop the herb because it’s my only solace, keeps my body from crashing to the ground.
It’s all in my head cause I was fine yesterday, after I thought about it. I’m not withdrawing so much as thinking about life after I move out, how empty it is, and how I wish it were emptier than that. I smoke to escape the fact that I don’t want to be, and it is a fact.
Adam Corolla says that if all religious people actually believe the crap they claim to, they’d act a whole lot differently. Well I believe with everything I am that this is all meaningless and there’s no going back from that. This nihilism that encompasses me is who I am, total non-believer. Heck, I started wearing a flower necklace to signify my disbelief in the supernatural. Nothings matters except for how I feel.
My body feels like trash because of the IBS and anemia; I’m doing 6-7 bowel movements a day. My mind is crushed by the weight of this false reality and the sheer number of believers in it. I shun my family and friends for their beliefs and unwillingness to change. I’m annoyed by those around me and myself for not being more accepting. It all enrages me.
hang with brother
rinse and repeat till the weekend
take brother to drum lessons saturday night
kill time till monday
hang with brother
rinse and repeat till the weekend
I have a lot of time to fill so I’m open to suggestions, but what is there for someone that’s afraid of the world? I keep signing up for philosophy classes at the local library but I always ALWAYS chicken out. If I’m going to find any like minded people, it’s there, but I can’t go. So how should I fill my time?
Hello everyone. I’m female, 17 y.o. – actually i’m turning 18 in 2 days. This is my first post. I’ve read the posts in this site before, but it wasn’t until now i decided to write something. It’s not the first time i’ve been thinking about suicide, as you can tell. Since the age of 11 i’ve been depressed most of the time, and i think i’ve forgotten what “joy” even means. I’ve never gone too far in my attempts, i’ve stood on the edge countless times, i’ve tied so many nooses and climbed high building, and i’ve actually prayed, i’ve prayed day and night for God to spare me and end my pathetic life. Yes, generally i consider myself a believer (though i truly wish God doesn’t exist), and i know i’ll end up in hell if i kill myself. However, I wonder if this life is not a hell in itself… It seems like God is determined to make me suffer. Perhaps he enjoys it. I bet he’s laughing his ass off at my stupid complaints and “prayers”.
I’m utterly, completely, absolutely and wholly pathetic. I feel like less than nothing. I don’t even have the guts to kill myself. Imagine! The cowardice! Today i got real close. I tied the noose around my neck, but got scared of the pain again. This is my only problem. I don’t care about the value of life, and i don’t care if someone will miss me. Or if i’ll miss the so-called “best years in my life” (i’m so not looking forward to my birthday the day after tomorrow). The only reason i can’t and won’t kill myself is this pathetic,Â animalisticÂ instinct to survive and a basic fear of a painful death. Do you have any tips on overcoming that? Do psychotropic drugs help, and which ones? I just need a little courage, a little push. I really wish someone could “do the job for me” and kill me.
I wish i had a better, less painful way to go. Unfortunately i’ve been kept under what’s almost house arrest for the past 3 years, and my access to almost anything is restricted. My family moved to a very conservative country in the Middle East, and i’m originally European. I just can’t adopt to this place; it’s been years and i still feel terrible here, i absolutely hate it. I have 0 friends and i have enormous stress in school. But there is no way out of this life. Here, there aren’t even any buildings above 3-4 stories, because it’s such a backward-ass Muslim society. No way to get a gun or poison. I can only try to hang myself, but i know it will hurt if i don’t manage to break my neck (which seems almost impossible). Try to hold your breath; after a minute you feel panic and you’reÂ desperateÂ for air. What will it be like to feel like that for half an hour?
I don’t know why i’m such a chicken… I’m a cutter as well, and i burn myself too… But this pain cannot compare to the agony someone would experience as they are dying. I don’t deserve your attention, but if you have a comment on your mind please share with me what you think of my story.