No one listens to anyone anymore, sure they hear so that they are able to grasp a rough idea of what goes on in their environment but no one actually takes the time to truly listen. To do more than observe a situation but to try to grasp how it must be to be within that environment and try to envisage the emotions that might be evoked so as to truly understand the complexities of what goes on in the world. Nothing is just black or white, we are all contrasting shades of grey. That’s one of my biggest problems I guess, I feel as if my voice has drained out from all those who choose to blatantly ignore me and even worse by the few who choose to “hear” me. No one is ever trying to actually listen, too busy trying to shut me down to get their stories out so that I will listen. However when I need reciprocation of that same time and devotion for someone else to listen to me, I receive none. I am a seed of the dandelion flower that was blown, disappearing into air, and due to wind never settled. I find no solace anywhere and so in the compass of my heart there is no true north for me to call home. I’m just so lost in my life and this feeling makes me fall deeper within the depths of my depression, making me hopeless.
Wow. I realize I only have a week before ya know, but I can’t stop feeling like I have things to do beforehand. I just don’t know if I can go another 6 years looking for someone who can just listen without flipping out and trying too hard to help. But I feel I’ve done too much damage to good people’s lives to stall. Like, for the love of bacon, why me? I used to be innocent and happy, and now I ain’t worth the dirt under my shoe. I guess not all dreams come true.
I can’t handle it anymore. I can’t handle the constant stress, the overwhelming feelings of depression and anxiety, the unbelievable sense of failure. My friends and family don’t listen to or believe my cries for help. Help. Something that seems reassuring, something that seems within my grasp, yet I know I’ll never get it. I’ll always struggle, always be a burden. I’m sorry I give people grief and sadness when they see me, I’m sorry I can’t be perfect, I’m sorry I rant out my problems to people who already have enough of their own. I’m sorry I’m alive…
I know you guys have been listening to my bullshit about my ex for quite some time. I finally made a huge step in parting ways with him. I guess I have had enough… enough wanting him… enough trying to be his friend…
We just need to be done with each other.
I can’t even put into words how hard this is/was….
Thank you to everyone here that gave me advice and would listen to my rants.
I figure out the fight against my thoughts and feelings is myself.
sure there are people who care and listen but the fight its by my own .
Today, surprisingly, I wasn’t as hyperactive for a few hours. I still wasn’t anywhere near the ‘normal calm’, but I wasn’t talking constantly and I didn’t rush around everywhere as much.
Although, it’s gotten bad again as time has got on. It’s now 2AM, and I’m somewhat “calmer” again – but I can feel the hyperness coming back.
My mum found out I’ve done no work for college over the holiday – which ultimately means I’ll fail this year and be kicked off the course – and she yelled at me non-stop for a good half hour.
I’ve tried to tell her I’ve had more important things to do, but does she listen? Here’s a hint: no. Because planning a round-the-world trip and writing down everything to start a new business isn’t going to take up a lot of time. Of course not.
Turns out, I see my therapist this Friday coming. If I can just put off college until then, I can show her how I don’t need to go anymore. I’m going to go around the world soon anyway, and then I’ll have this new bakery business.
My mum still comments on my ‘mania’, which is fucking annoying. Yes, I get you probably know what it’s like since your sister is Bipolar, but that doesn’t mean you can go around saying I’m manic. Tell my psychiatrist or something, but don’t outright say it to my face.
Unless her and my psychiatrist have spoken about it already. That’s what the phone call was about. And, as per, I’m too slow off the mark to realise. They’re all against me again. Fan-bloody-tastic.
I want it and I would use it in a mila sec …..I am absolutely emotionally confused ..numb sad hopless … .worthless….with constant fear of things my parents might do and how quickly I will use I that perfume if I had it .
I hate every one… my parents are playing good cop bad cop when there both psychos…inculeding my in laws my husband is still asleep sooo helpfull…(my mother just texted me do trust anyone )
Got it momma my life is shit but hey guess what my husband wont listen tooo yous ..
They get mad because i dont call them but when I do its a threat or an ultimatum. Idk I wanna drop dead .
I know that my friends have other friends.
I know that I might be too busy sometimes or that I don’t always have a ride.
I know that I can be annoying, selfish, violent, moody, but I just want you to understand.
Understand that whenever I make a mistake, I think about what you would have done. That when people meet me, I think about how much better things would go if I were you. That even though I may seem fine, I just want to die.
I know that I’m awkward and don’t have as many friends as you. But it doesn’t help when you brag about what someone else, that I don’t talk to, said. It doesn’t help when you joke about this one time you had a party with tons of other people. It doesn’t help when you tell me about inside jokes and that you have big plans with other people.
I don’t want to know when someone confessed their crush with you. I don’t wanna know when you brother’s friends give you their number and invite you to hang out. I don’t want to know about that time you went to Utah and met a guy who lived in San Jose, who then gave you his number. I don’t want to know about the things you say to strangers that makes everyone fall in love with you. I don’t wanna know when other people tell you what they don’t like about me.
I don’t want to listen to when you tell other people that I’m rude, violent, moody, stupid. I don’t want to hear when other people always compliment and give you gifts. I don’t want to hear about the time that you got free things because of your mom’s connections.
Maybe I just show my affection through light hip taps, or belly rubs. Maybe I just show that I care by not caring at all. Maybe I just want to fit in.
I hate you. But I love you. You’re what I want to be, but can never become. You have everything that I could possibly desire.
When I tried telling you about my depression and that I wanted to leave, you told me that you had cut yourself with a knife and had to go to a therapist for a year. When I tried telling you about my parents, you told me that your parents are divorcing. When I told you that I was thinking about going to the east coast to escape my parents, you told me that you felt the same even though I’ve heard you tell me and others that you loved them so much that you wanted to stay here in the west. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. Do I share more about myself? Because it seems like you are one-upping me. I care about you and I wish better for you. But I just wish you’d listen.
Listen when I push you away. Listen when I punched you in the arm. Listen when I tell you about my deepest secrets. Listen when I say that I’m just not feeling it. Instead of telling me your experiences and walking away. Show me that you care enough to stay. Don’t say anything just look in my eyes, hold my hands, and listen.
Maybe I’m just scared, that you’ll find out about my faults and leave me. Angry, that you have multiple things in life to your advantage, yet you complain. Annoyed, of you and your complaints and your achievements. Jealous, of your life. Relieved, that I’m one of your closest friends. Tired, of constantly being in your shadow and being wary of what you do.
Maybe I’m just selfish.
>:( I understand that my hair may look really coool now but seriously don’t fucking come up to me and fucking touch my hair and then get me kicked out of the supermarket because I hiss at you because you don’t listen to the words “don’t touch” or “fuck off” honestly for fuck sakes really now I have to show my face in the supermarket to get the rest of my fucking shopping
I hate life… FUCK YOU REALITY
I like to listen to what faces have to say, especially when their mouths are shut. The Man in Black has a face that makes you lean in closer and listen. I want to hear.
Life is the same. Depressing and shit. Blah blah blah. Nobody cares what I say, with or without words. No one leans in closer. No one asks questions even after I offer the answers. Because it’s the same old shit. People want a problem to solve, but once they realize they can’t fix it, that they just have to live with it, they don’t want to hear it anymore. I’m that problem that nobody wants to live with or hear. Well, Johnny gets it. Everybody listens, but nobody hears. I try, Johnny, I do. I try to hear. The problem with being a body is that you have ears and a mouth, but some people aren’t allowed to use both. Some people are only people when they’re useful. I will hear, over and over, but never be heard.
But honestly, who cares? Out of 7 billion people, I am absolutely forgettable. I read an article in the New York Times about a man that died, and no one noticed for quite some time. He had no family or next in kin. His neighbors only knew something was wrong, because he didn’t move his car for street-cleaning. He died anonymously. They had to ID him with only medical records and his teeth, because there was no one to claim him. The people in his will (drawn up in the ’80s) hadn’t spoken to him for decades. The man noted as executor of his estate handed it over to the government to deal with. No. One. Cared. People can live totally anonymous lives and die like they never existed. So, really, what’s the point? Why bother? We don’t matter. So why the pain and the fatigue and the sickness and the rejection? I’m tired, tired, tired…”sing me to sleep, sing me to sleep, I don’t want to wake up on my own anymore…”
Fucking hypocrites, everyone of them.
Everyone who judges me and tells me I’m on the wrong path; then I look a little deeper and realize what fucked-up lives THEY lead.
Their own abusive relatives, partners who ignore them, bad marriages, addictions, self-loathing… they need to look at their own fucking problems before they pass sentence on me.
I’m not going to listen to them anymore. I am reaching higher. I am going within and learning to follow my instincts; to listen to my gut, my head, my heart. I am going to hone that skill. All my instincts have been telling me to Be Love. To reach out to those I want to and to unconditionally love those I want to. And if what I do is “wrong” in society’s moral eyes so be it. If people get jealous, fuck them, they don’t get it. Love is rarely about sex, but dammit, if that’s where it takes me so be it. I’m done being the celibate martyr, done sacrificing myself for everyone else’s comfort.
I’m DONE looking to society to give me guidance. All society has done is fucked up a lot of people in a lot of ways. Fucking, rotten, bastard hypocrites.
Hi my dearest friends.. I got some tragic news i am still not ready to share yet, probably tonight.. I was wondering if anybody will play youtube tag with me so i wont feel so alone.. I tell you a song: you listen.. then you tell me a song: i listen… music can heal… help me to heal, would you… i will start… she is love by parachute
For those of you who have taken the time to listen to me.
I got my three month test 2 weeks ago.
My results came back negative.
Fuck you Zak, I hope you enjoy having hpv 2. I’m glad I didn’t catch it from you
When you are talking to your friends and they make “harmless” jokes about what you feel and what you do to yourself everyday, what do you say?
I know they do not know what happens when I’m home by myself, but they always make self-harm jokes or suicide jokes. I have recently been trying to open up more to my friends and to actually talk to people but I haven’t gotten to the really deep stuff, and I probably never will. But I have tried getting them to stop using jokes about self-harming or suicide but they just question why I am saying to stop.
Everyday they will say a joke they don’t think twice about, like that they will throw up because they have to present in front of the class, or they will kill themselves over a project, or they will cut themselves because of a speech they have to make. It is hard to sit there and listen to them make these jokes because that is actually how many people feel on a regular day-to-day basis. Some people will throw up because of public speaking or they will harm because of a school project.
I want to just get up and scream at them, but I cannot do that because they do not know. I have been more assertive with getting them to stop and it has become less frequent everyday, so I will call that progress. But for now when I have to listen to them talk like that, I just don’t know what to say and I need some advice on what to do. So anyone out there that has something to help I would really appreciate it! 🙂
Found an old recording. Just my guitar and a drum loop. Too many effects dials and not enough production experience. Oh well. Have a good laugh. If you listen in headphones, turn them down, it gets stupid loud and squealy.
Edit: I know the rules say no hate, but feel free to hate on this. I’ll be the first to admit it sucks damn hard.
I hate feeling frustrated with this job too. I don’t have any options to get a full time job. But I’m supposed to be an equal with someone here, same position, same level, both leadership positions for others. But he’s taken over, and it’s like I suddenly have another boss, one that disapproves of everything I do, calls all the shots, and I have no freedom anymore. I was liking this so much because of the creative freedom the real boss gave me, and that my ideas were listened to and even liked. Now I’m back to this “no, no, no, I don’t like that, do this, this, this, and that, and redo everything you did before at the last minute” by someone who’s really not the boss. Why do people never listen to me!?!?! Why is everyone else on earth always above me!!?!?
Ever since I was 13, I’ve had varying cycles of depression. They used to be pretty mild, nothing to make me want to do anything irrational. But my depression reached an all time high last year when I was 16, and I seriously consider suicide every day for a long time. The only reason I’m still alive is because I was too afraid of the physical pain.
The reason why my depression spiked was because I had found out that my best friend never had any trust in me at all and that she never really cared about me. I also began having confusion with my sexuality and came to admit to myself that I had loved her. I felt wrong- I wasn’t supposed to feel that way. I started having recurring dreams about her after she moved away and I couldn’t not think about her. My family is Mormon, so I was terrified about my sexuality and my future.
I started realizing all of the mistakes I’d made in my life and seeing that really only my family and my one friend cared about me. I hated myself. I hated seeing myself in the mirror. I stopped caring about everything. My grades dropped. I hated church, God, the ridiculously giddy and happy people at church, but my parents wouldn’t listen and made me go, they still do. I kept losing friends because I didn’t have the energy anymore to reach out, to be around people.
this has been continuing for the past year. Things got a little better a few months ago, but now I’m back in the same rut. I gained all the weight back that I’d lost last year, I feel like a pig. I hate myself.
One of the biggest things I’m struggling with right now is looking ahead, seeing how things could get better. My dream is to be a manga artist, and I’ve been trying to improve my drawing for four years. But if you’re familiar with the subject, you know how extremely difficult it is for a foreigner to become a Japanese manga artist. I hardly know any Japanese. My art sucks. And if I don’t reach my dream, then what? I don’t see myself getting married. I only want to be an artist, and I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t be that. I hate the world and art is the way I escape.
I can’t find an ounce of motivation within myself anymore, even to do the simplest of things. I cant take care of my body, I’m a poor student, I don’t spend any time with friends. I’ve tried taking antidepressants, but they just made it worse. I’ve gone to a therapist, they didn’t help at all. I’ve tried talking to my parents, they won’t listen to me. I don’t feel close enough to any friends to talk to them about it. I’m tired. I’m tired of trying. I’m sick of being a pessimist, always being depressed. I’m exhausted from addiction. I want to die, but I’m afraid of throwing away what I could possibly have someday. The “what if”s keep me here, but I’m starting to care less and less about those. I need to escape the pain. No one cares.
this is a cry for help.
it’s not a yelp for attention, for sympathy, for flowers and hugs and cards.
it’s a plea, to see me, to notice that i exist.
i feel like the world is listing, tilting slowly towards the tipping point. i pray to god above that the earth will straighten itself out, and that all the anger and hate in me turns back into the love it once was.
i want to go to the hospital, but i have too many commitments in my life right now. actually, scratch that, i don’t want to go to the hospital; doing that is a sign that i have failed as an adult. few people know this about me but i have been hospitalized twice in my life; senior year of high school, and my second year of graduate school. both times it was october/november. the first time, i stayed three days, and the second time, a week. from the minute i got in i knew i wanted out so i did everything i could. when i came back, i was just behind on everything, like i had taken a really shitty vacation with no cool pictures or souvenirs, and nobody even really noticing that i was gone. (seriously, the first time it happened, in high school, i had two teachers who asked my parents where i was, and in grad school, i think maybe 1 friend, 2 of my fellow students and none of my professors tried to find me when i went awol for a whole week).
i want to go away somewhere, not a hospital, not anywhere locked up, but a place where i will be free. to be free to be me, to rebuild things, to disappear from this existence and bloom into existence elsewhere.
if all else fails and i still feel this way in may when school is out…i think i might consider just running away. at least going completely off the grid for a few weeks or a month. unfortunately, it can’t be forever, as much as i’d like to to be.
suicide doesn’t solve any problems, but going away just might.
either a) people will try to find me, or b) they won’t. and i am being realistic when i say that b is what will happen, it will happen, and i will half expect a but experience b, and then be too crushed to ever emerge.
i have such a great life, on paper. it’s just incredibly lonely and invisible. i love to help, to volunteer, to be behind the scenes, but i just want people to see me. for me. me for me. love me.
things i cannot do:
- drink too much (at least not until friday)
- hang myself (low ceilings)
- cut myself (nothing sharp enough, plus it’ll make a mess)
- jump from a window (i don’t think i can fit through mine)
- light self on fire (survival = burns)
- kill myself
things i can do:
- write here
- find shit to break
- cry self to sleep
- grade papers
what i do for a living: i am a professor at a large and prestigious university in the united states. if any of my students or co-faculty find out about this or anything about how i feel, i might lose everything. all i have right now is my job and my students. i go to tons of events each week, social and academic, but have no friends and no life. i am sick of trying harder. it is not enough in this life.
so afraid to show i care
will he think me weak
if i tremble when i speak”