After I lost my friend, I didn’t know what to do or who to turn to, I wound up joining the wrong crowd. I was always a little bit of a drinker, I mean I liked the taste. But I got a little too tipsy one night, and I wound up sleeping with this guy whose last name I still don’t even know. I wound up getting pregnant after that, but I tragically lost the baby before I could even tell anyone, including my family. I wound up spiraling down into depression and “cutting” and I was just in a funk. As soon as I started to try to help myself after multiple counselor a and therapists, I wound up getting raped. I thought they were going to kill me because I saw one guys face and could testify. They wound up leaving me somewhere to find my way home, I just remember lying in the street hoping that I could be dead. After that I decided there was no hope for me, I stopped going to church. I wound up cutting out society all together, I lost all my friends because I was afraid to go out, and I would never say what was going on. I wound up being so done when I was painting my nails one day, I just drank the bottle, it obviously did not kill me, I just became very sick for a while. I decided once I had gotten healthy again to try agin. I could ever let someone deal with finding my body, so I did weird and stupid stuff, I started pulling furniture on top of me. I tryed to smash my lungs with the heavy furniture. I wound up reaching a breaking point when I tied my bed to a rope, payed under it and dropped it. No damage. Still alive. So I tried to hang myself, possibly the worst option ever. But the stupidest thing ever saved my life. A text. From Facebook saying that the guy I had a crush on accepted my friend request. A friend request. He had no idea where I was or what I was doing, he just so happened to be the older brother to the friend of mine that hung himself and died. I know he blames himself for what happened to his brother, and I know because of it he got into drugs and alcohol and parties. I just wish sometimes that I could tell him that he saved my life, but I can not find the words. I have tried many times, but I do not want to ever
So, haven’t been here in a while. Partly because I felt I should try and maintain some sort of emotional distance; SP reminds me a lot of a mental landscape I know very well, but like to pretend doesn’t exist.
It might have been working. I never know until things fall down around my head.
It’s not even (not ever) anything big. Just grade averages and rankings and the stress of not knowing, because I need that scholarship but that’s not even the reason. It’s just because I care, I give everything in this course a hundred and twenty per cent and come up worse than people who can afford to go on day trips and think about celebrities when I don’t even get to have meals without a textbook. It’s not a surprise, I’ve known all my life that I’m a little bit slow for how intelligent I’m “supposed” to be (but the people who make those assessments don’t know that yes I got an A in Physics, but I lived and breathed it until the books and papers outside of required work stacked to half my height). But you see the people I’ve known all my life have cared just as much as I do, would have killed themselves quite literally for a 95. Some of them dance for longer than they sleep, work themselves literally to the bone and I can’t grudge them their success – anyone who works that hard deserves it. This hurts in a way I’ve never felt before; these people don’t know. Never been baptised by fire or found any subject impossible, never attempted an impossible subjectÂ just to see how it would play out. They see the easier path, open just for them, and they use it. They’re OK with giving 99%. They know how toÂ let things be. I never knew anyone before who even considered that an option. Giving 99% to my college crowd is also known as slacking off, never mind that 50% from some of those people would’ve been more than enough.
I don’t like people who slack off. Maybe just because I don’t get to do it much. Maybe because it’s a crying shame, especially when the people concerned are quite frankly brilliant.
And I’m trying to hold things together because my flatmates are moving in so I need to help and act like a decent human being. But the only thing I can really think about is all the work IÂ shouldÂ be doing that their presence deprives me of, and I can’t help resenting them just a little bit for expecting to move in a week before term starts and have everything sorted – I’ve been here near enough a month and I’m still falling apart at the seams. It makes me wonder if it really is just me. And I haven’t thought, what’s wrong with you? for a while, but that’s taken over everything. Why aren’t I smart enough, why can’t I get a grip on my feelings, why do I need five hours of sleep. Why I don’t care if my sofas don’t match or if I never travel and if I only speak to four people on a semi-regular basis. Why “the only thing [I] care about is work” – no, that’s not it, I’m not like you and there isn’t enough of me to care about more than one thing at a time. I do need to feed myself somehow so “work” has to be it.Â Also? Work is predictable: it never ends.
I just can’t stop crying, and all this feeling is a disgraceful waste of time. Disgraceful, period, all this feeling sorry for myself. I can’t afford it; I don’t need to feel I just need to function and of course that just starts me all over again. This part of me is despicable, pathetic, no use to anyone. I need to get rid of it somehow.
So of course just like the rest of us on this site i’m pretty suicidal. and by pretty i mean really suicidal. so naturally when i found a girl that makes me happy it was like god had decided to let up a little bit. a few months go by and all is well until recently. things are falling apart and im freaking out because without her i know i’ll try something again. i cant let the tiny bit of happiness ive found get away from me. And yet she causes me so much pain too… and her knowing about my depression is hurting her too. i know shed be better off without me which is probably why she’s considering it, but the mere idea tears at my chest. i would take a bullet for her, i walked five miles in the rain to her house because she needed someone to hold her but she would never do that. But i cant let go. this post is really all over the place and i apologize, im just pretty emotional 🙁 i dont know what do to or how to handle the inevitable outcome
I have a stepsister who goes through all the shit I do and shes my only family I have left. Shes 17 and just found out that she wont be able to leave home cuz of legal troubles my stepdads fault but I walked into our bedroom and found her sobbing on her bed. Her wrists were cut so deep it was scary you could see the bone only a little bit but still the cuts went the whole way up her arm. I ran out of the room to get a towel and gauze I was gone for like 5 minutes and when I came back I found her in the closet. Dead. She hung herself. Now I have no one. Again. I have a biological sister but no one knows where she is. Maybe ill find her one day
Sooo.. Recently I have been having suicidal thoughts for several reasons. Most of them I’m sure no-one will ever understand, because we all view the world differently, what may mean the world to someone may mean absolutely nothing to another person, so with that in mind my suicide thoughts have done nothing for me but make me feel even worse about myself, but I am now realizing that life is hard on everyone, some just handle it better than others. now,Â my family means the world to me and 90percent of the time when I am soooo close to killing myself.. I think about how selfish id be, because I am just thinking about myself. not about how much damage I could be doing to my lil sisters and brother (family), and I wonder howÂ isÂ it going be when they have to talk about me or even them going through life knowing they had an awesome big sister that letÂ LIFE kick her ass, because she took the easy way out. or evenÂ worse, themÂ messing up their life and blaming it on my death…..Â no that’s not me. so yes right nowÂ I am going through the roughest time of my life SO FAR, but when I look back at it, there clearly had to be a good reason why I did what I did at the time or else I wouldn’tÂ of done it. sooo this is me making a promise to myself I am endingÂ my suicidal thoughts because im barley only 18,Â and what was my biggest problem a month agoÂ doesn’t even bother me now so with a little bit of time.. im sure what I was trying to kill myself over today.. will be my least worries in about a month. nothing last forever!
However, I would like to share what I am going through with someone. sooo feel free to hmu.
I had never heard of this sight until tonight. I saw a friend post about it on Facebook & instantly thought that it was a sign.
Let me just begin with a little bit about me. I am 18, I live in a town I hate, & I hate most people. I’ve never really blogged, but I’ve always wanted to. It really helps me to write & I need to have a way to calm myself down. I really don’t know how to explain myself because I don’t really know who I am anymore. I don’t want to hear that I’m too young & that I need to get over the “little” problems because I have been through more than an 18 year old should. In my posts I plan on telling you events that have happened to me in my life up until this point.
A reason I believe this was a sign is because lately I have been suffering some hardcore Anxiety, something that is quite recently new in my life. With this I am Bipolar & Manic Depressant, I get really low sometimes, I think that I always have a terminal illness or something that is going to kill me at a young age, & I freak out easily. I take a certain medicine for all of this combined, but due to turning 18 I lost my insurance & cannot afford the $390 price for it. So I officially have nothing keeping me stabilized at this point in my life. Since being off my medicine I have been going through a symptom that is associated with Anxiety & that is: Depersonalization. It’s where you can’t really comprehend real life, you are unable to perceive that you are you, these are your body parts. Reality is a dream & you’re truly not there. For example, I Look at my hands… they’re not my hands. Same with my legs. I literally feel like nothing but a pair of eyes. I don’t know any other way to explain it. It scares me to the point of panic. I have been so depressed lately & I’m being told by those close to me that it’s all made up for the pharmaceutical industry to get money. .this itself also brings me down.
I have never really truly thought about actually taking my life, just things like, “How would everyone feel? My family, friends, boyfriend, & even enemies.” Death is obviously something that scares me, but why did it suddenly hit me tonight that I have the power to end this, my life. I have the power to not feel this sadness, fear & pure hatred for who I am & everything wrong with me. I hate having to deal with this everyday, but I could never end my life. I just hate that I have to live this way. I HATE THIS FEAR. I get so moody & lash out on the ones I love, especially my parents & boyfriend. I know I am pushing them away & I don’t want that. I need ways to keep myself from this. I need something to get my life back on order. Being that I just graduated I don’t have school to look forward to anymore & I just get to sit at home most of the time. The worst thing about lashing out, I know I shouldn’t.. but, I can’t stop it. I try not use what I suffer from as a crutch, but I know that’s what it is. Something has GOT to give at some point. I’m too afraid to go to the doctors, I hate them. I just don’t know anymore.
This is all I really have at this point. So, the rest is going to follow. Here’s my story…
Little bit of a new song that I’m writing.
Sometimes when I’m sleeping deep and sound,
I’ll wake and pick my gui-tar off the ground.
I’ll strum a tune and I’ll sing a song
But I’m kind of a loon and there’s nothing wrong with me.
I’m just crazy.
They locked me up when I was twelve,
They never knew that I would delve
So far into this state of mind once more.
Then came thirteen and I was free
But nothing quite as it should be
Until they found me on the bathroom floor.
Yeah that’s all I have for now.
So last Thursday I had cut myself again and I just couldn’t stop myself. My mother is more than even disappointed in me because of my grades and all I’ve really wanted to do is make her proud. I don’t really know how to feel anymore. I get more and more sad and upset with myself each growing day. I also started writing poetry and it helps me share my feelings at least a little bit. Sometimes I honestly want my mom to see my scars so she sees just how much pain I’m in. I just want to be able to live my life without this pain and anxiety.
I wasn’t planning on posting here for another couple of days, but recent circumstances have altered my plans. June 27, 2010 is the day that one of my best friends took his own life. I write a memorial post here each year on that day as a way for me to remember him by. Last night another one of my friends committed suicide. It’s been numbing, as I’ve realized how little it affects me. Not because I don’t care, as this is a person that I had a great deal of respect for, and someone that I genuinely enjoyed being around. I know he had been struggling for a long time, and I can accept his very personal decision to end his own life. I think that’s the viewpoint I’ve gained since going through a suicide before and dealing with my own suicidal thoughts.
I met Nic a few years ago, and he seemed to be happy enough. He was funny, charismatic and intelligent. Maybe a little bit weird or awkward or any other word that you’d like to use. But who isn’t? I liked him. He was real and I could really appreciate that. As I began to grow closer I found his constant references and jokes about suicide to be slightly off-putting, due to my own past experience. I wondered about the degree of truth behind it all. As it turns out, it was all too real.
As I said before, his death itself wasn’t as devastating as it was to others. It wasn’t my first time. I kind of know the drill, if that’s something that can ever be said on a topic such as this. But there’s a bit of a personal twist for me. In January I started dating a girl that I had had feelings for for quite some time. I guess he had also been vying for her for quite some time. She wasn’t interested in him, and made that perfectly clear to him many times. She told him that beyond her own lack of feelings, she didn’t want to date someone that she was friends with. Enter me. We had been friends for a while, and when he found out that we were dating, he lost it a bit. The end result was him ending up in the psyche ward at our local hospital. I felt terrible. We weren’t best friends or anything, so I wasn’t quite aware of his situation entirely. Both with his own depression and his feelings for her.
I didn’t visit him in the hospital. I didn’t know how he would react to seeing me, knowing that I was with someone that he so very much wanted to be with. I knew deep down that he would have an adverse reaction to her dating anyone, but the fact that it was me, and he was someone that I cared about really made it difficult. I talked to him at school once with a mutual friend in early February, and he seemed off. Very quiet. I assumed embarrassment about his time in the hospital, as he was a proud and secretive person. I respected him for that and knew that I might not exactly be at the top of his list of people he wants to see. That was the last time I had any direct contact with him. He attempted suicide in March, I believe it was, although I only know this through mutual friends. He had been in and out of the hospital a few times, and it broke my heart. Then, last night, I received the call that he had passed away. I’m still not sure how I feel about it all.
If I learned anything from my first experience with suicide, it’s that every person needs to do what is best for themselves, and make themselves happy first and foremost. If everyone could do that, we would all be happy, and that is really the ideal situation. So I don’t regret dating her. I don’t regret continuing to do so. I just feel selfish. He’s gone, and I am here. I’ve been happy lately. The happiest I think I have ever been. Certainly the happiest since I had begun self-harming and thinking of suicide. Ultimately I know that no single person could have made him happy. It was deep within himself that the unhappiness originated. But the feeling of guilt is still there for me. I at least wish that I had talked to him about my own experiences with depression and the affiliated emotions. I really should have been there for him, even if he was still mad at me.
Nic is resting now though. The world that had been so difficult is now gone. For that I am happy. He was a great person. He is a great person. He will forever live on in my heart, and I hope that in some form he is able to forgive me. I was just trying to be happy, Nic. I love you so very much, and I miss you. I hope that in leaving this earth you have achieved that which you wanted to. Be it freedom, peace, rest or the afterlife. Whatever you desired, I wish with all of my heart that it is now yours.
Sleep well, my friend. May eternal peace be with you.
Im back again, to let out all my emotions.
Today is monday the 17th of june about 10:01am
It all started on sunday. I was working, like i would normally do at Macca. i was doing drive thur so giving to food to the cars and then ths guy was like to me ” Oh i swear i brought this face stuff” im like what? and he says ” your face! i have this brand of face wash and you should try it, ill bring it for you next time ” when he left i ran into the bath room at work and stared at my face.. ( I have a little bit of acne, but a pimple here and there and then some black heads, nothing major ) Then When i was serving a customer ( He was asain) he told his kids to close their eyes cause the girl has a yucky face. That offended me so much. Honstly PEOPLE NEED TO LEARN TO KEEP THEIR COMMENTS TO THEMSELFS AND ALSO EVERYONE WILL HAVE A PIMPLE HERE AND THERE SO PEOPLE WHO CARES ITS LIFE. the guy told me to clean my face before serving him. That night i went home and cyed myself to sleep.
My guess is that everyone on here is afraid of something. Afraid of the future, afraid of consequences, etc. Right now I’m afraid of something everyone in life has to eventually go through – growing up.
Well I’m not really afraid, more like I’m TERRIFIED. My whole life there was someone to help me, even a little bit, and I always had another milestone I could postpone adulthood to. But now I’ve reached that point and now I’m on my own. I do and don’t want this moment to come. I do want to become independent and not under the stigma of my parents’ reputation and establish myself as a separate entity, but I don’t want to leave the comforts of home and having someone else guide me to the next step (I know I sound spoiled and I acknowledge now how lucky I am).
I’m in my nice warm bed and the alarm is going off. How many times can I press the snooze button before I actually have to get out of bed?
I guess it is true that you never fully appreciate what you have until it’s gone.
Today I was happy.
I went to the pool today with my assistant manager/close friend (I helped her recover after a very brutal divorce with her crack-addict lousy excuse for a husband.) Now normally when I have any cuts or scars on my legs, I tend to hide them. But today I said, “Fuck it! I’ll show them off and let them get some sun. Maybe they’ll fade out a little like the older ones.” I had an incident a few days ago that I’m none too proud of, but I decided to go nonetheless. When we got to the pool and the sun was shining in the sky, Teri finally got to see them.
The look she gave me.
“Rae, I don’t want you to do this anymore. I mean, I know a little bit of your story, but girl, I hate seeing you like this.”
This is the first time I’ve shown a friend a piece of my history and they actually asked me to stop.
I’ve shown my boyfriend, and mind you, he took it way better than I thought he would. I was going to keep it to myself, but after the incident where my best friend tried to kill herself, then dumped me over something so IDIOTIC IT HURTS, it just kind of came out. He asked me if I’d feel better if I showed him, so I did.
He winced when I pulled my pants down slightly above my knee caps.
“Does it hurt you? I won’t show you again if this is hurting you…”
“No. It’s alright. There are just a lot more than what I was expecting.”
Normally I would tell my (unfortunately now ex-) bestfriends when I cut and I would show them. They were very ‘understanding’ and on some occasions actually encouraged it. This bothered me. I wanted to stop. I had kept myself from doing it for 6 months until I started hanging out with them again. And then this shit happens. You wanna know what led me to it again? My bestfriend telling me I only ‘pretended I had moodswings so I would get attention and that’s why I hurt myself.’
So that night while staying at their house (parents were gone; we were house-sitting) I turned my music up as loud as I could in the bathroom and sliced my legs open with a pair of dirty ass scissors, screaming and crying. But I wouldn’t show them this time. I wasn’t going to let them know.
Later on they told me they heard me.
But they didn’t care enough to fucking help me.
So back to the pool, I digress. It struck me odd. Someone actually telling me (other than my boyfriend, but he still has a tiny bit of trouble dealing with it) to stop.
Since the arguments with my old friends, even though it’s been only a few days, I can see and feel the difference in myself.
I smiled today. A genuine smile. I told Aaron I was happy. And he hugged me. “I’m glad. You need to be happy.”
We’re moving in together in the next few months and he’s actually staying the night at my house for the first time since we’ve been together for almost 4 years. I’m almost giddy at the thought. And this, too, makes me happy.
I was burned to a crisp today, but it was worth it.
For the first time in months, I took a breath and exhaled a smile that was worth it.
Dear Universe, Lord, and Lady.
Please help me keep these feelings alive.
I hope all of you that come here wishing to end it tonight take a moment to stop and step out of yourself.
Like a movie frame. Pause your life for a second and really take a minute to analyze why it is you’re feeling so desperate to end everything.
It’s not you, love. It’s not your fault at all. And if you can find the root of that problem is, give it a big “FUCK YOU” and walk away with a proud smile. You don’t deserve to deal with that shit. Prove to yourself you’re above them, because if we’re anything alike, I know for a fact you are.
You are beautiful, handsome, intelligent, and worthy of living a hell of a lot more than the scumbags that currently reside on this Earth.
I hope you’ll be able to breath soon, too.
I have now reached the point where I feel like I’m at the end of my rope. I am absolutely exhausted with trying to pretend that I am ok. I have had these intense feelings of loneliness and sadness lately and they are starting to become consuming. I have tried talking to everyone I know, but no one seems to understand. They tell me its just a phase or that things will get better just “try to be positive” (like I haven’t been trying). I have tried self medicating but the effects are only temporary.I tried cutting, but it just made me feel worse about myself. Why would I let myself get to a point where I would do that to my own body? It intensified my feelings of loneliness and self-loathing. I feel worthless, alone, and empty. Every time I manage to pick myself up a little bit I slip right back down into the whole. I seems like and endless pattern and I am starting to feel completely hopeless. I wish I had someone to lean on, but I am completely alone. I can no longer see the joy in life and I am beginning to doubt my purpose here at all. I am trying to find a way to finally pull myself out of this once and for all….I am so tired of feeling this way.
im going to take a shower now. maybe ill stay in there all day. i dont know. i dont know what to do. i cant calm down. i cant do anything. i literally want to die. i feel like im dying every second. i want a better life, but since i cant, living is more and more painful every second. i cant breathe. i cant do anything. i want to die. i cant handle this. there is no way i can fight every second about things i am not able to prove. i am fighting against someone who has made up their mind and has problems on top of that, that i made a lot worse. i dont know what to do. if he could only understand that he is not always right, and just step back and relax a little bit, he’d realize things are okay. we’d be able to keep building towards extreme happiness. id make him the happiest man in the world. i promise that. i would make him the happiest man in the world. i need happiness to. i have none. i cant function. i really want to die. i dont know what to do. my life is pointless. i dont know what to do.
So often… i have so many thoughts i feel compelled to express, but so little energy to spend on articulating and verbalizing them. Even that first line was difficult.
But then i start doing math, and think: who would see? of those, who would listen? of those, who would understand? of those, who would care?
And even if i could share every one of my most meaningful thoughts, with, say, 100 people who would see, read, listen, understand, and care… what good would it really do?
And even if it would do a little bit of good… it wouldn’t be enough… for Me.
So, often, i have all these thoughts and ideas about ways to make this horrible world a better place… but even in the best case scenario, for me, it’s already too late. I’ve already lost my chance to live. I’ve already lost my chance to have “a life.” I’ve already lost my chance to do anything but strive to survive for its own sake, in the face of sheer futility… just to maintain a sub-minimal and ever-declining state of existence… just to exist… in a life i don’t even want.
It’s… surreal. It’s astonishing, incredible, unbelievable… and it keeps me just broken. And so much of my time is spent just trying to stay empty and relax, and let the time pass… except for when i get restless and anxious and want to do something, anything, so badly, that i just can’t stand to sit still and let things be the way they are… with all the haunting words and images rattling around inside my brainstorm. But there are too many obstacles, and too many things i can’t change, and i inevitably return to embracing letting go… because it seems like the only way to not feel terrible or worse, is to strive for numb neutrality.
So i don’t know. Everything is tragic irony or paradox. I feel upside-down, backwards, inside-out… and so often, all i can think about is how i can’t even use any of the valuable parts of me, to do anything worth doing, in this world… and that someday, after all this miserable impossibility, i will face the pain of death, and then cease to be. I know i will feel both cheated, and a sense of release, in my final moment. I don’t know how i’ll be able to avoid dying in the middle of the most uselessly impossible question: “Why?” I’ll spend much of my time and energy between now and then, dissecting and analyzing and trying to invalidate that question, because i know it has as many answers as there were events that preceded me and occurred during my lifetime. And even if i can find a suitable answer, or even if i manage to completely invalidate the question… i’ll still die wondering. There are just too many things; i’ll never figure it out, completely.
Sometimes i like to tell myself utterly absurd things like: “i don’t exist.”
Sometimes i like to imagine that none of this is real; perhaps a simulation or a dream.
Sometimes i wonder if maybe we all have the same consciousness, experiencing life separately, individually, through billions of different sets of circumstances and genetic parameters.
Maybe i am you, and you are me… but we just don’t realize it, because such a concept is so counter-intuitive, according to what most people observe, and the way observation is experienced, as determined by the human condition.
One thing i do know, is that i need a better way to find… what i need. Too much of my life has already transpired, without such things. I am convinced no way, for me, exists… or at least, no way that i can actually use. Maybe it’s not “the way” that is absent, but the things themselves. Maybe it doesn’t matter where i go or what i do… because what doesn’t exist cannot be found anywhere, through any method or approach.
There are so many things i don’t know… but i look around at this world and realize that so incredibly few have even come as far as i have. I just don’t have time to wait for everyone else to catch up. So many of them don’t even want to know how wrong they are, or that they are wrong at all, despite the copious evidence available to show them, and all the ways humans have developed and evolved to better understand things.
I know i tried, and gave the best i could give, as well as i could, for every task and situation that mattered, throughout my life. It wasn’t enough, and i didn’t get to live… and now i have nothing to live for, no method to try, and no time to figure it out.
So all you young’uns out there, listen up: No matter how terrible your problems may seem right now… if you don’t make a choice to make it better, it will only get worse. If you have to piss off your parents and get stuck in a mental hospital for 6 weeks, in order to get the help you need, DO IT, Now, while you’re young, while you still have time to recover and move on. The last thing you want is to make it into adulthood broken, unstable, lonely, desperate, with no one to understand, and without the right help. Don’t let anyone tell you anger is wrong. Don’t let your anger slip away; use it for fuel for your fire, and don’t let your fire go out, until you have what you want. Get through your problems while you’re young, so you can have a life worth living, as an adult. Don’t worry about stupid highschool bullshit. Life does get better, once you’re out. Work hard, starting today, to put yourself in the position to be independent, so you can do whatever you want with your life, so that you don’t have to be miserable. Go to school, learn all you can, and try your best to understand the world, yourself, others… and how it all connects.
And please, stop hurting yourselves. You want “pain” to numb the sadness? Run. Pushups. Sit-ups. Weights. Martial Arts. Learn to use tools and build something. Get a job doing manual labor and work hard until your muscles burn and your body feels like a giant bruise. Learn a bit about nutrition, and starting eating the right foods. Don’t let shitty parents poison you with junk. Don’t like your parents? Be better than them. You’ll be 18 soon enough.
Cutting won’t cut it as an effective coping skill, once you’re in the real world. It’s better to spend your energy on making yourself stronger, smarter, faster, and more determined to achieve your goals.
I see some of you thinking “it’s hard to stop.”
You know what? No, it isn’t. It takes zero energy to simply not do something. And if you absolutely must exert energy in action, then do something constructive like exercising until you’re ready to drop.
And once again, i’m tired, so i’ll just trail off, after writing randomly…
Just 5 letters.
A simple word.
But it’s not quite simple to trust.
I can’t trust anyone, even not myself.
I will never trust people for 100%.
Actually, I always had effort with trusting people, but after the times people used and harmed my trust so many times, I know I’ll never trust people for 100%. I never trusted people very quickly, but after everything that happened, it’s a miracle when I trust someone a little bit.
Trust is a word I don’t really like to hear.
It’s a word that’s much more difficult than you would think.
Does trust actually exists??
I start to realize more and more that I’ll never be happy. Also IF therapy I get now WILL work, I’m not happy. Because the thing that makes me happy, also makes me really unhappy, and if I’m unhappy and down, I want to be happy, do the thing that makes me happy, but I also get more unhappy. The unhappiness also stays longer than the happiness, which is also not really happy, but happier than the unhappiness. Hope you guys still follow me ;P. It’s a little bit difficult, also to explain. Maybe this poem will help me to explain it better:
~My outside is made of carton,
but my real me is covered in marble.
My outside is happy,
but my real me is unhappy.
You will never be able to get behind my marble,
and so I will never be.
Though I’m inside that marble,
I will never get there,
because I’m not the real me.
I will never be my real me.~
Written by myself.
I will never be happy. And then I ask myself: What’s life worth when you know you’ll never be happy and should you go on with your unhappy life?
I’m freaking out just a little bit. I have realized that I can’t find passion anymore. It’s fading away slowly. I used to have so much passion. I used to be passionate about almost everything. Theater, singing, acting, dancing, writing, mythology, reading,Â philosophy, guitar, you name it. (Though not math…. I hate that with a passion) Passionate is something that used to be a descriptive term for me. Now… IÂ don’tÂ know. It’s fading and I amÂ desperatelyÂ trying to hold onto it. But I can feel it slipping away along with my will to live. I don’t know how much longer I will be able to be here…
Hi, I suffer from Manic Depression . Not many in my school know that. They think i’m happy, maybe even normal teenage girl. I’m 14. But this is were it all started.
When I was little, I was always the “troubled” child. My parents would curse at me , call me a “retard” , “slut” “whore” all different types of names when I just was two years of age. It wasn’t only the names… my mom was a drunk and my dad wasn’t so much of a help either, she would hit me, with all sorts of things, whatever she could get her hands on. One day, she was mad at me and my sister, and all she could find is a hammer and she threw it atÂ myÂ head, and if it weren’t for my older sister, I wouldn’t be here today. Â My dad, that was a different story, for his weapons were his hands, he would grab me by my hair at time and throw me down the stairs like I was a rag doll, like I was nothing. I felt like nothing. He would grab me by my throat , slam me against the wall , spit in my face, and when I would try to run and hide, I would get it worse, he would swing at me, knocking me unconscious at times, or leaving me with black eyes, or a busted lip.Â My mom when she got drunk, she would leave me & my 3 other siblings alone, all in the house and go off andÂ do drugs and prostitute.Â Â When I was 4 I was sexual abused, by a Family member, I don’t want to go into details, because I don’t think anyone would want to remember that, but my parents blamed me for it. They still do till this day, they blame me for everything. As I grew up the abusing got worse. Then something I really never told anybody, I turned to guys for attention. I thought maybe if I let them get there way a little bit, I would be noticed a little more. I never did intercourse with them, I was young 9-12,13. I would just perform oral with them. It was nice to be wanted for once, but that wasn’t the way. So I did with 8 or 9 guys or so. I regret it all . Then it all changed when I moved out of that house, one day me and my sister were cleaning our room and we had put a trash bag out side our door, by our dads door and he came upstairs and started to freak out. He grabbed me and my sister by our hair, and threw us down the stairs, began to beat on us and then him and my sister got into a fist fight and crap, and then we ran outside, together, the dog bit her, I practically had to carry her all the way to the nearest store, they called an ambulance and her wound was token care of . Me and her got brought to the police station and made police reports and then this really nice lady from child protection services came in to talk to me and my sister and we told her out story and we went home with our grandparents that night, I went with my dads parents, my sister went with my moms parents. My mom tried so hard that day to get me sent away to a girls home, but not my sister, just me… she didn’t care.Â So whenÂ I went to there house, I went to a new school and everything changed I had more respect for my body and everything.Â 6th grade was horrible, kids would call me names, but I would just do it back, 7th grade, I moved back and forth between houses with my grandma to my moms , but I ended up staying with my grandma, I failed 7th, and im glad I did. 🙂 That summer of 2011, I met this boy, fell for him instantly, but I stole him from my best friend. I felt bad, but it felt so good to call him mine atleast at the same time(: Â at first me and him didnt work out so well, he went back and forth between me and a couple of other girls, it hur
I think I’m done. I can’t tell anyone about this. So why not tell you? I wish everything would go back to the way it was. was When I was happy. No one was hurting me. I’m soooo tired of it. And when my friends try to tell they end up marketing things better for a little bit. bit But it just gets worse again. It all because I thought that I could trust him. But I couldn’t. Why am I always wrong?