I’m old now. I wasted my youth being too scared to go out and have fun. Instead i worked at a crappy department store using my money to help my family out of endless drama until I was thinking about killing myself every day. So I re enrolled in college with big plans to be a art teacher. Today I failed the $90 Praxis exam for the 4th time. I was not even close. I’ve missed the deadline to be screened into the education program again and will have to wait another year. This is the only thing I’ve ever tried to to for myself, just for me. But I failed again. I’m a loser. I live at home with my parents, I’m fat and ugly, and I don’t really have any friends. I hate myself. I want to die right now but I don’t want to go to hell or have my family have to pay back my student loans. I’m going to look into finding a way my family wont have to pay back my loans and if I can do it I think I’m going to let go. If God isn’t real and I just stopped existing I would be ok with that. Really I have been thinking about it for a long time and Not existing would be better than all this misery and pain. I don’t know I just wanted to tell someone without them calling the police on me or making me feel guilty. The only thing i am actually good at is working like a dog and spending all my money on my family. I’m a mistake.
Ive been struggling to find someone to talk to recently as i dont feel im doing the best.
I tried the online counselling but they all need payment details to actually talk to someone professional.
I just want someone who knows what im going through to pay attention and offer advice because i honestly feel so lonely atm.
Id really appreciate a message… For the record im also a really good listener!
Email me, anyone? email@example.com kik: devinx7 I don’t really have anyone to talk to..
Hi guys, I am new to this site, came across it while looking for an outlet for my negative thoughts. I struggle to talk to people about how I feel, and I am finding it increasingly difficult to live with the loneliness of not being able to express myself. My friends are kind. I don’t have many, but the ones I do have I appreciate and are there for me often, but more in terms of meeting up and having fun, rather than being able to specifically talk to them. That’s why I am here.
For many years, I have felt insecure. I was severely bullied for years, from being called names to being hit and followed home from school. This caused me to move schools. Now I am in university, failing my second year, and in need of motivation to do the simplest of tasks like getting dressed and washing myself. Some days I can force myself to move, go to the gym, go into town with a friend. Other days I can’t move from my bed, my hair will become increasingly greasy and my clothes will need washing, but I remain in bed, either not eating, or eating nothing but junk food. I know that’s common with people, and I want to share my story and find some like-minded people.
My biggest problem is my constant anxiety. I have not told my parents how bad it is, and I try so hard to fit in with the fast paced-ness of my university course, and the type of people who are there, but it’s so difficult, as they are very different to me. We do fashion and textiles. Being unable to retain friendships is a big problem, because I find myself scrambling for words to say, and trying to keep a conversation going is virtually impossible. When I started University, I was very excited. I could finally move on from the oppression of school, and be my own person. What I became, however, is the same as everybody else. Well, at least that’s what I attempted. I found friends via the internet, fresher pages etc, and made friends very easily (online, I can be outgoing, almost like a complete new person), but meeting them was a different matter. At first, conversation was easy “So, what did you do at school” “what A-levels did you take?” “How is where you live?” The conversations come easily, because there is so much to learn. Me, I asked the questions, rarely answering them, because I find myself very boring and uninteresting.
A few weeks go by, and I am feeling lonely, distant. I knew a girl from school, the pretty and popular type, but we took the same classes and got along well, and ended up at the same uni, doing the same course. This was great, knowing her made me more confident, because nobody else knew eachother, but we did. I’d like to think that I created that group. All the people, I made friends with, me. I introduced everybody to eachother. However, as the months went by, I was pushed out. Conversations would be dry, with me barely being able to get a word in. They would all go out and I wouldn’t be invited, which hurt like hell when they discussed their fun days in front of me. The collective Birthday presents we decided to buy eachother apparently didn’t include me, and I wasn’t asked to sign the card. Those little things made me feel more alone than the days when I was physically hit and spat upon, because at least then I would know they disliked me, instead of being two-faced. I’m sure it’s pretty relatable, we all have those friends I guess!
I’m rambling now, my point is, I am stuck. My parents, friends.. nobody has a clue. I get emails from my lecturers and even higher up people in the university wondering why I virtually never attend, and I never have a good enough reason. What am I supposed to say, “today I was so down I couldn’t get out of bed, I’m sorry” or “It took most of my strength just to keep myself alive today”? Nope, bad idea, so instead I have to make excuses that are obviously lies and just make me look like a loser.
Anybody else feel this way? I’m struggling with seeing a future for myself. Most people by now have a direction in life, who they want to be in 5-10 years time.. me? I just want to be here. I do. As much as my negative thoughts tell me I am better off not being here, I want to stay, and prove to myself, my school bullies, and the friends who pushed me out for not being like them, that I can be somebody. Hopefully I have found somewhere I can channel my pain and stop bottling everything up.
You’re most likely wondering why I so boldly asked for you to read this post. Well, I did so because I have something to say that I believe will benefit you, no matter if this site applies to you or not.
I’ve had an unbelievable amount of personal experiences in my life that in reality could have shattered me from the start but instead, here I am writing this post. I’m not going to tell you that your life will automatically improve after this, or that you will immediately see a change, but what I hope that it will help you in some way shape or form. From an open-minded and accepting friend, I hope you will learn from my experiences as I have learned from others.
~I promise you that nothing I say below is untrue nor exaggerated~
My mother was (and still is) a huge administrator of emotional abuse. She made me and my sibling’s lives a living hell. When I was really little, she and my dad were always working and when they did come home, my dad would shout and stomp and my mom would shriek and scream. My dad was on some heavy medication (presently I believe they were prescription steroids and narcotics) for his back because of his 13 surgeries (he’s always had medical issues. It’s just the way his body works). We were afraid around my dad and around my mom, she would just complain and yell about my dad. They fought constantly and it became fairly normal.
That being said, my grandma raised us three alone for the most part. We lived in a nice house, but were constantly called spoiled brats because of it. People at school made me feel guilty for wearing nice clothes all the time. I didn’t care about those nice things though… (I came to want only to be loved, but that comes later). The three of us fought a lot and were yelled at, but that was a result of not being supervised enough.
Our grandfather was a religious nut who was kicked out of multiple churches for arguing with the pastor over the type of bible they used. He walked to the city every day just to hand out bible tracks. Every time he said goodbye, he would add “guess who loves you the most?” and after we would of course HAVE to say God, he would say “Yeah! That’s right!”. Every other religion was the devil’s religion. Nonreligious music and non-christian books were pagan. One time I wore a two piece swimsuit to his pool and he told me I wasn’t allowed to swim looking like a whore (I was in 5th grade).
Starting from first grade onward, as the oldest, I was the first to face the jaws of elementary school, where according to mom, I had to be the best in everything or there was no point to doing it and you were a failure. I was pressured to get A’s on everything and to be the best at sports and at music. I played soccer, basketball, and then softball where I settled and still play today. I only had one friend and she was my everything. We did everything together and shared everything. So while I whirled around in a sea of advanced papers, practice two times a week, games on weekends, and viola lessons each week, she stood by me. In third grade I secluded myself after we weren’t in the same class. I had no one and after getting glasses, my self confidence plummeted. The yelling became worse. The screaming, the degradation. I just wasn’t socially adaptable. Sorry mom. My recesses were better spent inside doing multiplication and reading the Twilight series anyways.
In fourth grade, I got contacts and started making more friends (a few acquaintances) and in fifth grade, my best friend was back. We weren’t as close, but we had a small group. I also found my first boyfriend, a tall handsome little boy with black hair who would send me “I kinda like you” letters which turned into “Goodnight I love you” texts in 6th grade. I still was socially awkward and had a hard time making friends, but it couldn’t be helped. My home stayed the same oppressive prison as always and my siblings were dragged down with it. My sister was even worse at making friends than I was, and my brother, little did I know yet, was turning into a rather rude and uncaring individual.
During the first year of middle school, I guess I sort of reverted back to my third grade days. I didn’t have a “true friend”, but I had my boyfriend… Who dumped me after the school dance. I cried, as all the heartbroken do, and got over it. So much for first loves.
Eighth grade was the year that completely changed everything. Immediately, I found myself whirled into an unlikely friend group of my current best friend who will never leave and is too amazing to explain (P), an almost-insane spunky girl (SE), an outrageously hilarious girl with a darker side (SA), and a smarter, more quiet, rational thinking girl (K). Together, we bonded over a private joke we created about a group of old ladies starring in our fictional movie “Rest in Pieces”, involving a murder, a clinically insane twin, and humor. We all had old lady names which we called each other. I was Petunia, P was Edith, SE was Gertrude, SA was Mildred, and K was Pearl. We were always together and always talked about things with each other. That year I also acquired a boyfriend (G). I was absolutely infatuated with him. He was tall, funny, strong, and cute (sorry to all of you readers who hate this sort of thing. You can skim it if you would like 😛 ). What drew me to him however, was how he always had people around him, yet hated the attention. His dad had just died the previous year and I wanted to help in whatever ways I could. He was my first serious boyfriend and at one point, though it sounds silly, I fell in love with him.
Funny thing is though, you only find out how much you love someone after they’re gone. SA flirted with him constantly and even though I told her to quit it three times, he broke up with me the Summer before high school started. On my birthday. First thing in the morning. Yeah… That wasn’t exactly my favorite birthday gift, seeing as he was my first kiss… I resented SA after that and when high school started, I didn’t talk to her. She knew it though and every morning while they were making out, I scooted right on past (and yes, they really did that and it was really that gross).
Things at home with my mom were coming to a boiling point. My dad was getting better as his last surgery had really helped him and finally he was back on his feet. He became happier and easier to talk to while my mom only screamed louder. She called me pathetic, lazy, stupid, ugly on the inside and out, fat, unbecoming, brat, *****, mute, rude, mean, idiot, nasty, ugly, arrogant, useless, antisocial, friendless, waste of talent, waste of money, hopeless, snotty, and other names. These were just the ones I had written down. At softball, which I played on year round on a travel team, I felt increasingly more pain every time I threw the ball. So much so that I was popping Advil like candy.
But at school, I fell for a boy with blond hair and misty green eyes in my history class. I still remember the day that he said he wanted to go to Japan and because I sat right next to him, I automatically piped in “really, me too!”. I just hoped he didn’t catch me staring at him too many times… But besides that, grade stress weighed down on me. I found out that high school wasn’t easy if you still want those A’s, and being in the gifted program only means you lose more sleep. Stress and anxiety did not help my arm pain and the situation back home.
Eventually, after multiple misdiagnosis’s, I finally found out that I had a torn ulnar collateral ligament and could ether get a Tommy John surgery, or never play softball again. Seeing as I had already invested so much time into the sport, I decided to get the surgery. On January 12th of 2015, I woke up from a successful surgery, but with 3 little ugly scars, one gruesome big winding scar, and a hulking cast. I partially blamed my mom for the surgery seeing as every time I told her it hurt, she wrote it off as an excuse and sent me back out on the field to damage it some more. Over that post-operation period, none of my friends contacted me (except for P who asked once how I was doing).
I went in a few days later to take my finals which I had missed. I took my algebra 2 and honors history finals while on narcotics and ended with A’s which I was happy with. But when I was permanently back, things started to turn around for the boy with blond hair and I (J). We began to talk and I fell for him more and more (sorry readers who don’t like sappy romance, but he plays and important role!). Eventually he became my boyfriend and while G and SA made out in the open hallway, we sat at the end and just talked to each other. Sometimes he would even bring me breakfast and I would in return bring him some as well.
We talked about where we wanted to travel, about politics (rarely), about our favorite music (he liked country, I liked classical, alternative, and soundtracks), about TV (which mainly consisted of anime because I’m the biggest closet anime fan anyone will ever know… Inuyasha anyone?), and many other things. We were best friends who happened to really like each other and that like eventually turned into love. He was the first boy I ever let do more than kiss (disclaimer, we both kept everything below the waist on, I repeat, pants on people!). But I felt good about it, not ashamed. I did it because I trusted him.
When Summer came, we were both busy me with sports, him with camps and trips and such. When we did get together though, we did fun things. He took me to a wolf preserve and on my birthday, gave me pale lavender roses and a beautiful silver necklace that I treasured and took with me to Europe. Things were especially great when he came down to the beach with my family and one night I snuck into his room and we JUST laid together (nothing more… I just always wanted to fall asleep in a boy’s arms…) . Waking up early, I slipped back into the other room and to this day, I treasure that memory with all my heart.
But when 10th grade started up, we had no classes together. I found out that SA and G had broken up as well. She and I reconciled and our friends were whole again. Things quickly turned for the worst though, when I joined a new team with an abusive, loud, drill sergeant of a coach who made us do conditioning until we felt like we were going to vomit and made each of us cry at least one practice. I got a new viola teacher after outgrowing the other one, but he made me feel like I was doing everything wrong and wasn’t good enough… I didn’t practice for the months I was with him. 10th grade was even more work than 9th grade and I began to get anxiety attacks as things at home heated up again and again. So I broke up with J to save him from the burden of my life. I cried while doing it and after he hugged me, I knew I had made a mistake. I knew it but didn’t say anything. Instead, I cut my long hair and cried.
And cried. And cried. And had a panic attack. And cried. And then I learned that SA had been sexually abused by G and had attempted to end her life. She cut her wrists frequently and had tried to jump off of a roof. As messed up as I was, I tried to help her all that I could. We became close and bonded over our love of Studio Ghibli and view of life. I had somehow prolonged her life and in doing so, mine as well.
In February of 2016, I went to J and asked for him back only for him to say no. He said it would be best if we remained friends. Immediately after that I learned that he had gotten a new girlfriend, a girl a year older than him who in all unbiased honesty, was not as pretty, not athletic, not as smart, and just not prominent in any way besides the fact that she played the same instrument as him (which is percussion…).
A little before that, my sister declared that she didn’t want to be a girl and she didn’t really want to be a boy, but a boy was better than being a girl; She was transgender. My dad and I were quick to accept and support her while my mother constantly fought and yelled at her. To this day she still yells. And we’re seeking help as much as we can for my sister through therapy and support groups. My sister’s a lot happier than before, but all of her progress gets pushed back by my mother.
Not being able to deal with the stress of life, I took to cutting. I cut off the safeguards of a daisy razor blade and slid it across my wrists. It actually didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. But the next day I was so ashamed of what i had done. I partially covered it with bracelets and hoped no one would question it (which they didn’t much to my relief). I eventually even contemplated a means to an end. SA found out though and she told me not to. She pleaded with me and recently, I decided to quit all of it. Boys aren’t worth it, mothers aren’t worth it, no one is worth that kind of pain. If J would settle for someone like that, then hell, I’m sure there’s a prince for me out there somewhere 🙂 And though my mother still yells, I now have the support of the rest of my family and look towards the days when I will leave this house of unforgiveness and pave my own path in the world. One full of acceptance and kindness towards those who need it most.
I learned that living is one hell of a struggle. But without those hardships, I wouldn’t be able to appreciate the good in life as I do now. I wouldn’t be able to understand others like my sister and SA. Wouldn’t be able to interact and connect with others as I can now. Some can’t push through those adversities though, and I’ve learned that that’s why people need to stop with all of the fronts, all of the acts. Stop being selfish and materialistic and start caring about others. We’re all just people. No one is any better than anyone else, and everyone has their own purpose. I am a firm believer in this. I myself am not perfect, but it’s those imperfections that push me forward.
If you’re still here and lasted to the end of that long speech, I applaud you and hope that my story can help you with your own.
Here’s SA’s own website for additional story insight: https://diffidentdaydreamssite.wordpress.com/
Here’s my email as well if you ever wanted to ask questions privately or just need a friend to talk to: firstname.lastname@example.org
Thank you, and I wish you all good luck in your journey.
Hurry up and fuckin’ wait — oh, how I despise that phrase/former way of life. I don’t like sitting ’round on my arse doing nothing (besides exam prep) but that’s what I’ll have to do for now. Things should be bearable as long as these folks working my case stop making it all about money and meeting these stated outcomes of theirs, because otherwise I’m going to turn violent… and that won’t end well for whoever happens to be on the receiving end of my violent gestures.
…but I’m not a violent person by nature. Of course not. I’d much prefer to reach a compromise via dialogue or appeal to the good nature of the other party concerned; but the truth is there is no good-natured individuals who take up the role of lord and master over those who don’t have the power to fight back — for fear of losing the only remaining support they have left. For the next two months I shall remain optimistic but aware of the fact that things could go tits-up in the blink of an eye.
I really hate this fuckin’ world.
I’ve set myself a little personal milestone with regards to the compensation process I started back in December, which for most folks is sorted within a month yet here I am almost four entire fuckin’ months later. Here’s the thing: either I’m getting a lot of money or I’m getting nothing at all. That’s no exaggeration on either side of that spectrum as that’s the advice given by my doctor and what makes the most sense from other cases I’ve read about. I’m giving it till the end of April before I actually contact those monkeys down-the-line, but I’m hoping to receive something by then.
If I really won’t be receiving anything, then that’s okay. I’m more than capable of living a little while longer before the madness blows my brains out. But… But… If I happen to receive financial compensation from the guv’ment and it happens to be a substantial amount, I’ll be able to appropriate funds to’rds the following in this order:
– Paying off my one and only debt
– Securing my own apartment
– Helping find a job (preferably as a civilian IT technician for the service)
– Purchasing an assault rifle and putting 30 rounds of Mk. 262 5.56 through the head of that moron who calls himself my cousin’s boyfriend
– Saving the rest for later use
That’s the gist of things anyway, and I won’t expand on them right now. More than anything, receiving compensation for the injury I’ve endured will do a lot to motivate me to carry on with life and capitalise on the recent qualifications I’ve earnt — and I’d even consider investing a small amount to finish off the diploma study of mine.
most all things in life; it’ll just take time.
I need to make a new friend in the next month. Some folks I’ve met these past few months have been good, but I need someone I can connect with on the regular and who I can properly confide in, as they will surely be able to confide in me. I doubt I’d meet anyone from here and that’s okay, but I’ll figure something out. I usually do. It’d be nice to know someone I can meet up with for a hot cuppa on a chilly Friday morning on the waterfront or something, y’know? So hopefully I will meet someone in the meantime — it’d do wonders for my sanity.
Securing a friend.
Securing my future.
There’s not much else I could ask for as a man, and I’d be quite the smiling soul if I were to secure the above. But even if I do fail, there’s a deer slug with my name on it that’ll put me out of my misery for good.
i don’t know why, I just feel scared. Lonely. I’m alone.
Fuck! I hate this damn world.
I’ve never felt so dead. You cant ever erase what you see or hear, the hurt will stay forever. This world is full of mean people. Therefore, I crash and burn, but sadly I always stand back up. I guess I’ll never learn.
I know how much my family loves me and I would never do anything to hurt them. I cannot escape this world, because loved ones keep me here. My past haunts me and so does the future. College is hard and I feel alone even though I am not. I put on a painted smile because I dont want them to know how i really feel. I dont want pity, it does me no good.
I am not happy and dont know when i started to feel this way. I found myslef looking up how it feels to die… Messed up, i know. I dont want to die though. I think. I also dont want to make my family sad. I just wish i could make the dead feeling inside of me go away. I want to feel alive again, i am sick of feeling alone.
It’s like periodic anxiety attacks where my chest aches every time the shock of her absence, the pain of missing our life together, hits me.
I may feel less depressed because of the TMS (or possibly the the treatment for PCOS), but I still feel useless. Classes start this week and I don’t think I know how to be human again yet.
i don’t even know why i’m so fucking sad at this point, at first it made a bit of sense cause no one in my household was really okay, or happy for the majority of my life. and i did a few months ago loose my facade and several friends but for fucks sake its been 5 months, years since that family stuff happened and yet i still cry every god damn night i don’t know what to do with myself.
i don’t know why i’m surprised, its not like i’ve ever been able to keep myself together, i learned to lie quick and shield myself cause i didn’t feel safe and that led to me braking down when i was 11-12 because i literally had nowhere i felt i could go for support or nowhere i felt safe. that was the first time my facade broke. i made a mistake (as always) and told my mom i didn’t think i was worth fighting for after she had asked me questions about why i let kids my age step all over me. i felt violated, and i feel so fucking dumb for saying that. they’re my parents, right? so i must be another stupid rebellious teenager. i just don’t like it when they get passed that barrier i never want them to see me that way. i carefuly crafted a daughter for them over the years in order to preserve myself cause i knew a lot of the things i was feeling or thinking were not welcome.
they still aren’t, so that person is going to continue to be me.
i don’t know man, i just always remember being so sad for no reason, getting mad at pointless things and growing such a deep deep hatred for myself that i didn’t know would completely ruin me in the future. i didn’t even know i hated myself honestly. i thought thats just how all people felt about themselves. why would i have thought any different, thats what i lived with all my life.
i started scaring myself when i was 11. sad and afraid as i cried in my bedroom because i felt like i would never be able to do anything i just felt like i had too. i did it on my ankle so it would just look like a scrape. i was 14 when for the first time i was beginning to open up to someone. this was the only person i had ever trusted with anything, really. i wish i didn’t make him go away. i’m sure he doesn’t care for me now.
i wrote this just thinking maybe, putting some of it in words will help me figure it out, maybe if i tell other people it’ll feel better. i don’t know i hope it works, i bank on the anonimity of this website. and the community sense it has. i feel a lot better knowing this is a site for just as fucked up people who don’t even know who i am. so ironically, as closed off as i am this gives me the most backfire free place i’ve been too so far.
My friend that was visiting left yesterday. Now I’m alone and I don’t know how to adjust. I feel like my ex-fiance is supposed to be here, with me- I miss our life. It feels unreal. It feels empty. I used to have someone I could share everything with. Now I’m just alone; there’s nobody to care about me like she did/does, to be there to comfort me every time I cry, to share even the mundane parts of life.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt such painful sadness despite being depressed for a decade and other painful events. Of course, maybe that’s just proximity bias. But I’ve never felt like someone knew me so well, who loved me as much, who felt so permanent as she does. Being alone after having experienced that is unbearable. I want to feel like that again, but I’m scared I won’t. I feel too tired to rebuild my life yet again. I don’t know how I’ll make friends, let alone meet someone I love as much as her.
recently, i’ve discovered yet another sickening dilemma caught up inside me. i’m already filled with them you see, but the space inside of me can always grow to accommodate more internal turmoil it seems. especially now that the only person i ever trusted completely is gone, and i’ve damaged all the meaningful relationships with those around me, and my head keeps spinning telling me i can never be happy, and i believe that my head is right.
due to my past and the likely hood of my future based on my functioning as a human being. you see, i am weak. all i’ve ever contributed in this fucking shit-hole of a world is pain and a bitchy mouth to feed. not even a grateful mouth, but rather one that spouts lie after lie after lie in a weak attempt to shield herself when she should know by now theres no point in a barricade let alone does she deserve to be protected. i should know that by now shouldn’t i? i should know from those curled up fists all those years ago. in fact i did know. but i thought maybe things would change. maybe i can find someone to love and trust. how fucking stupid was i, huh. i didn’t take into account at the time what a fucking moronic whore piece of shit **** i would be. how i would always be that way. how i could never be happy because i, myself just generally make others unhappy. and when i fantasize running a blade down both my wrists, the spill of my blood on the floor seems so inviting. i can feel my skin itching in anticipation everyday, and yet the blade never finds its mark.
because, how naive i must be. rather than dying, i think i still just want to find a friend.
I dislike them, I really really really dislike holidays .
Holidays are days when family members come together and become fake as hell; They act like they weren’t talking shit about each other every other day.
I can’t take the loneliness anymore.Or the fear. Most of the time, I can’t even find the courage to leave my room because I am always so nervous around people. I never know when I will burst out crying. It’s so humiliating. I can’t find a job, I’ve already maxed out my credit cards and sold everything of value that I had just to pay my rent. I don’t have anything left to sell, and it’s already 3 days late. They foreclosed on my house 2 years ago, so since then, I’ve been renting rooms in other people’s homes. I almost never even leave the room, much less the house. Luckily, the lady is never here, so she doesn’t know I just lay in bed all day. I’m not lazy, and I’m not drunk or on drugs. I just can’t find the energy or confidence. I don’t have any friends anymore, and even my family has given up on me. Since my divorce 10 years ago, I have only seen my kids a few times. They are grown and married, with kids of their own. Two of the three don’t even return my phone calls. They spend holidays with their Dad and his new wife, while I have spent the last 5 years alone on Thanksgiving and Christmas. I am dreading the holidays. I don’t think I can go through it again this year. My life has been over for years. I guess I’ve just lived too long. I just want to go to sleep and never wake up.
I’m new to here, so hello… I’ve been feeling down for a while now and alots been going on… I’m sure a lot of you can relate to this poem …
You make me feel so worthless
So depressed and so alone
You make me feel like crying
And cutting deep into the bone
You look at me in solitude
With your evil looking glare
Make me feel so worthless
Like I’m living in despair
I want you to understand
To have some gratitude in there
To feel the emptiness I feel
And the loneliness in the bed we share
Why am I here
What have I done
Will it ever get better from there
Can it ever be undone
For the pain I feel inside
Is torturous and grim
Like looking through a telescope
And seeing the darkened weary emptiness
That’s flowing from within
For you are not my saviour
My knight in shining gold
You look at me with piercing eyes
And make me feel so cold
What have I done to deserve this
And will this ever end
How long will this continue
How long shall I pretend
I’ve been in this new town for 2 and a half months now and my only friend is my roommate. This is a lonely life. How is everyone else’s life going?
I’m 25 years old and I’m gay. It was hard coming out to my folks and close friends last year. I have never been on a date nor did dating apps helped me. I just cry myself to sleep, feeling lonely. I have got nice friends to hang out with but I still am empty and sad on the inside, just hoping I could come home to someone. It’s annoying when my friends are either in a relationship or married, and them asking about my non-existent dating life. I have hardly been happy since my sisters’ birth. I reckon that this is my destiny to be like this and feel bitter. I don’t know however I’m gonna comfort patients as a doctor with a fake smile whilst I’m sad on the inside. I just can’t help feeling like all of this is due to me. I’m just waiting to either wither away or find an end to this perpetual sadness. I’ve got no clue why people say suicide is easy way out to a problem. Suicide is very difficult to contemplate and to overcome instinctual need to live over the sadness is a tough battle.
I feel like I’m a burden to everyone in my life. It seems like I can’t do anything right. I’m a fuck up. No matter how hard I try, I fuck things up. I have a terrible relationship with my family, and they’ve told me multiple times that they don’t love me or even like me. I try, i try to be a better person. But my family still calls me selfish, spolied, bitchy . I feel constant guilt, I’ve felt like this since I was a little girl . I can’t talk to anyone about it because i feel as if I’m being annoying, being a burden. I have no one to talk to. I’m being thrown around in the vicious tornado of depression and it’s picking me apart. I feel unloved , unwanted, lonely, useless, ugly, unintelligent . I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m tired of causing everybody pain when I try my hardest to be a good person.