I can’t tell any more if im over reacting or simply following a path that was laid out for me. I’m married , just over 13 years, and we have been through hell and back, and not all on our accounts. There’s been severe injuries, that included hospitalization and surgery. There’s been job losses, several of those and on both ends. There’s been concerns with kids and family members that included losses as well as counselling. And yet despite all of the angry and terrible things we have said and done, I still try to “fix” things. I push my emotions and feelings aside to try to raise my kids but it doesn’t matter all the hurt comes rushing back and I find myself looking for an end. I have always known my method of choice, but I keep convincing myself that I’m just being emotional. I’m tried, I’m lonely and just don’t feel that I give a dam any more. So again I ask am I over reacting?
Had doctor appointment today.
Got the Amitryptaline increased from 75 to 100.
The doctor did the usual cover-your-butt questions, including “Have you had any suicidal thoughts?”
I shook my head as if to say “No, of course not, what a silly thing to ask.”
Because only a fool would say “As a matter of fact, YES! Hahahha! Funny you should mention that! I was just waiting for you to ask! Here’s a song I wrote that I’d like played at my funeral! Do you like it? Does it need more cello?”
Well today is my birthday. The only reason im putting it out there is that I really didnt think I would make it to 40. Now im here im happy about it. Im proud of myself for not giving in to the destruction of addiction and keeping on trying to stop using no matter how many relapses I have. Im glad that I haven’t comitted suicide. The thoughts of ending have abated and I have found some things to live for. Im glad for new people in my life, no matter where they are. (Oops I think im writing a gratitude list). Thank u to anyone I have chatted to or if u have commented on my posts. Thank u for been there when I have needed it. You all rock my world.
Anyway, if ur young and thinking how can I go on?? Well if I can, then u can.
Hang in there mofos. We got each other.
Hello SP: I am having a really difficult day and need help/encouragement. My body hurts so much today. Just can hardly move. I am so tired of being tired all the time. I’m tired of not getting restful sleep no matter how long i stay in bed. I am tired of not being able to type because my hands hurt so much (I am dictating this.)
I am so tired of it hurting to cook and clean and do laundry and even work in my garden.
I have so much to do this weekend and I am so overwhelmed and so tired.
I really need help tonight. Thank you for listening.
Hello everyone , I am what you would call a first time poster… I visit this site often but like I said before this is my first post. I didnt believe posting here would mean anything.I still dont but like many of you here when I read the stories it does two things for me
First thing is helps me feel like im not alone in this fight
Second thing is makes me see how helpless we all are to what we suffer from. from the most potent level of depression to the less.
I personally just want my pain of existing to just end. I have lost my reasons for living for reasons it doesnt matter to say. And maybe thats the problem but what does matter is this site and the people it helps to say just one more day I believe even we are small on a grandscale of things for this site to give us ground to feel relief from our helplessness of failures and pain I think that means something…
I don’t know how to live with this. With myself. I’m full of hatred & negativity. I feel so alone, & lost. I am a terrible person, but I don’t have it within me to be better. I can change my actions, but my underlying view of life remains the same. The problem is fundamental to who I am. No matter how many new starts I make, I will eventually drag myself down.
I have cut myself off from all humanity. I am completely alone. There is no meaning to anything I do. I go through the motions, clinging to the vestiges of life. But it’s artificial, and completely hollow. My dreams are based in my own twisted view of the world, and cannot be fulfilled.
Why can’t I let go? Fear? Guilt at the pain it would cause? Maybe I just love making myself miserable? Maybe I believe on some level that my life is really fantastic, despite how my mind constantly torments itself. Maybe my survival instinct overrides everything? I just want to not feel this, or be this, anymore. I want to sleep. I want it to stop.
Ground zero. My optics aren’t good. Police looking for me. Now it’s do or die. Do to die. No backing out now. Only matter of time til there on city wide manhunt. Fuck. I needed one more reason.
So there is one hand washing the other , high using low or low protecting corrupted . It doesn’t matter to me anymore, I cannot father a child because of the danger of mental illness and unequal treatment that could happen to a child of mine. I continue to be a victim everyday , and they are relentless in the torment. Bullied and intimidated into isolation . There was a chance 3 years ago when I sent my human rights complaint to make this right, but they went left. It’s TO LATE now , this can not be forgiven , remedied , made up for … only covered up to protect the criminals that are involved. No Justice is No Dignity , and that is a Crime Against Humanity . Organized and funded , Rico act applies , but I guess I am not worthy of Constitutional Rights , Equal protections or being treated humanely by my own Government. They are trying to force me to take an under the table ” offer I can’t refuse ” that they will turn around on me and say that I blackmailed or extorted them. Then use that to continue to violate my rights and dignity. I am not Jesus Christ, I do not have to forgive the people that have done this to me, and I never will. As a matter of fact , they are trying to drive me crazy by constantly saying they are sorry, ever seen the movie ” The Craft ” . It’s been done to other people in the USA. Being ” sorry ” is admittance , being ” sorry ” everyday for the same thing over and over again is a lie and a cover up. I have been threatened with torture and murder in an attempted to cover up and protect the criminals that are involved in the crimes I am a victim of, why would I have a girlfriend , wife or child that they could use as leverage to silence me ? This is a complete failure of the U.S. human rights agencies to allow this to happen to one of there citizens. Making money of of crimes is not legal , as they keep trying to Justify the invasion of privacy and human rights violations. There is no Government Watch List that allows broadcasted , for profit and entertainment , violations of privacy.
Robert Wayne Steiner Jr.
1208 Elwell St.
Pgh Pa 15207
For almost 2 years, I’ve felt this way because I live beside toxic neighbours and my uncle doesn’t listen to me to be careful of being taken advantage of. How? Simple. They threaten to sue us, get us fine and arrested for “Distribing The Peace” from the back up alarm installed on my uncle’s car. People sue for almost anything now a days no matter how ridiculous it may seem. There are various type of prices for back up alarm sold online and in-stores. Intially, it was installed for safety purposes of warning pedestrian to move out of the way when the vechile is shift into reverse. This generation, people attached to their electronic devices and rarely pay attention to where they are going. Nevertheless, my family kept telling me to ignore them and not fret about this matter. My family always count on the police to come give warnings beforehand if there is noise complaints.
Knowing my neighbours, they have been peeping toms secretly recording / collecting evidence to use against us – I had a feeling their intentions were not good. The other disgusting part is that they say that we are intentionally using noise as a form of harassment. I try to restrain from using foul language but these people kids who go to kindergarten mouth are foul enough to be washed out with soap. Long story short, depression hit me when I realize what I’ve been trying so, hard to protect doesn’t really matter in preventing these jerks from damaging our property. I was afraid that we might somehow get suddenly arrested when we get summoned to court and mad that my uncle gave them the upper hand to become obnoxious / cocky enough to disrespect him and his property. We clearly draw a line for them to park on their own driveway but they would intentionally block us from reversing once in awhile. To be, they are wolve’s dressed in sheep clothing. I know my uncle always remind me to forget and forgive people but there is another quote that says “don’t let anyone have the pleasure to disrespect you.” Ironically, instead of keeping pedestrian safe, the back up alarm attracted financial leeches. Trying to stay positive and get my motivation back for school. I lost hope and was very disappointed in the possibility for these people to manipulate the situation.
Hello. Lately I’ve been feeling ok. My depression comes in waves I guess. I went to bed feeling ok, but woke up feeling like shit. I don’t know why this happens. I’ve got a feeling something bad is coming. I’m going to screw up some how and everyone is going to be mad. Do you know that feeling? It’s that gut feeling that the momentary peace you feel isn’t going to last very long. There’s not really much to say. I’ve got a few more weeks until testing. I realize I’m way behind since my depression kind of came back. I don’t really see myself going to college so I guess it really doesn’t matter. Anyways, thanks for listening.
I had a post a couple days ago where I mentioned I was very seriously considering killing myself that day. I don’t think anyone saw it so it probably doesn’t matter, but in case anyone did wonder, I’m still here.
Anyway, my therapist told me she thinks I am self-aware and articulate, and I’m pretty much still reeling from the fact that someone who has any insight into the inner workings of my mind would have anything even remotely complimentary to say. So there’s that, I guess.
Fuck this existance, i want to die! What kind of twisted pervertion makes this right not mine? Murderer, self assassination, killers go to HELL, if thats what youd like, or continue this existance of hated life. Fuck these choices, i have no choice, eternal damnation eclipses my life, no matter internal struggle, impulse, strife. I just want to die
has become more complicated. Face-to-face communication used to be vital, but now we can live our lives being online all day.
However, the truth of the matter is, we still need to see each other’s faces, read their expressions, hear their voices, so we can fully understand their emotions.
They are never interested in me, no matter how compelling it might be to think they are.
Also, I must make a point of viewing pictures of real dead bodies and videos of suicides to become desensitized the reality of my own death and the idea of my corpse.
I have no motivation for anything! I’m about to graduate collage, but this last semester is killing me and I’m failing 3 classes. I don’t even care, after I graduate (or not) I’m leaving and going to do nothing with my fucking degrees and I don’t care, because I don’t like them anyways, I’m not going to make anything out of myself because I don’t care! the only reason I’m alive is because I cant seem to kill myself all the way! So I guess I’ll just keep not caring and living my whole stupid life because as long as I’m alive everyone’s happy. even if i’m not. Cuz that doesn’t matter.
I’m an atheist. I think I believe that death is the end of consciousness. But the idea of hell still has this grip on my mind. Maybe because it’s what I feel I deserve. The thought of being trapped in a never-ending state of misery and despair – that somehow seems like what I have coming. That there’s nothing I can do about it.
Which is crazy. As far as I know, all religious concepts of hell have some kind of ‘escape clause’, at least while you’re still alive. If I really believe that’s my future, shouldn’t I be confessing my sins, or living a life of pure altruism, or doing all I can to change my character? What else could be more important?
But rationally, I don’t believe. And emotionally, I feel that no matter what I do, I will always be damned. I could confess all my crimes, cure cancer, solve world hunger, and I would still be someone who deserved to suffer, alone for all eternity. How fucked is that?
So, what’s a meaningful use of the few years I have left not burning in agony?
You never forget that smell, no matter how long you go with or without it, it’s always there in your memory banks. Waking up that dark Friday morning in a hotel room just down the road from the Sky Tower, I looked across to see her cuddled up against me — our bare bodies covered only by a single sheet as the heat from the night before kept us snug and warm. But the smell of sweet, sweet love just so happened to pierce my nose, and with it came an epiphany of sorts. Could my future really lie within denouncing the one value I’ve always held in high regard about myself? Am I seriously going to let this happen again and again, whilst slowly losing grip of everything I respect about myself? Is this truly the year of “Monkey business?”
Shifting out of the shower and putting on my suit that I’d just pressed the night before, the woman in the bed poised herself upright, sitting back on her knees and looking at me intently. As I adjusted my cuffs and straightened myself out, she gestured for me to hither unto her, giving me a kiss before I left out the door. But scenarios like the aforementioned only ever occurred for me in a committed relationship, where I knew I’d be returning home later that day to someone I love. This was different in every way — we have never expressed feelings of love to each other and this was the first time we’d even met each other.
Yet here we were.
Sitting in class for the last time chatting with the team, I glanced at the messages on my phone to see that she’d sent a picture to me, with the message: “come back to bed”. I didn’t need to see the picture to know what the context was, but once again I encountered yet another moral dilemma, and with this I finally admitted to myself something that I’ve known for a long time now — in order to maintain my own personal integrity and stay true to myself, my commitment should shift to that of non-committal relationships. Because the truth of the matter is I am the bestest friend that you’ll ever have, whether you’re a guy or girl, but I am your worst fucking nightmare at being a romantic partner for no other reason than to say that I’ll never live up to the expectations I’ll set myself for you.
Courage. Comradeship. Commitment. Integrity.
These were the values instilled in, and honed by, the army whilst I served, and I lived and breathed these values each and every day that I put on my uniform; and all it took was three nights with a friend for me to bring my own core guidelines into disrepute. But y’know what? I loved it and I have no doubt that I will do it again. Having dinner with her that last night at that swanky new restaurant serving dishes from N’awlins sealed the deal in that regard. (The fried chicken and potato salad was divine…)
I am a loser, as you all know damn well.
I’m sure my friends from here will think less of me, and that’s okay because you need to see what I’m becoming — my eventual downfall and devolution into what I always will be. I have some stuff to sort out tomorrow but I’ll probably spend the week drafting another post looking for a friend on a certain corner of the internet, and as always I’ll be truthful with what I write and do so with the vivacity that most folks here have come to know, and I am confident that I’ll be with another friend in a fortnight’s time — establishing my wants, satisfying my needs.
Thank you Tess (my ex), for making me realise that you were right all along. Without your guidance, I wouldn’t be heading down the same path that you’ve been trekking all your life — one of self and instant gratification without the need to justify the means nor the end that you’ll meet. That we’ll meet.
Let’s see how long this holds up before I’m back on the streets, cradling a shotgun under my bivvy bag in the middle of an Auckland winter with a needle in my arm and whiskey on my breath.
…because that’s how it always ends.
Not everyone understands what its like to not matter. To have never fitted in. Even amongst the mentally ill. To be ugly. Not to feel ugly but to actually be so repulsive that the best you can hope for is for another arrogant thot who doesn’t care about you at all except to pity to boost their own ego all to try to convince you that someone else will as a consellation. Otherwise you have rejection because of your ugliness and anxiety. Not everyone gets what its like to to be in complete mental misery for 3 decades going back to childhood so you have no concept of emotional safety. Not everyone comprehends failing at all your dreams so many times that to count the failures would exhaust my mind. I want to set myself on fire to distract myself for the pain and anger and bitterness and hatred. My posts dont scratch the surface. I work out as often as i can. Hoping to have a heart attack. If I survive maybe I’ll have a tolerable body. Maybe I’ll release some of the pain and anger and frustration. But it comes back. I have pain physical in my neck. Mental pain. I want to die. I’m to incompetent to trust a method or my execution of any method. I want this end. All of this pain. All of this anger the bitterness. The hatred that has molded me. The rage that turns good men cruel, sociopathic. I get more disturbed more bitter more furious. Im mentally regressing. I have moments of clarity, happiness, peace joy. Then they end and the pain comes back. The triggers are so plentiful. So ever present. Getting rid of these emotions is like evaporating the earth. Like walking the earth with broken legs. I dont know how to function. I dont matter ive been here off and on on this site for 5 years. I’ll never live. I’ll die a slow death for another 45 to 50 years. Waiting for nature to end my madness. And hope that im still sane by the time i get there.
So it’s been a while since I’ve commented or posted on here. Before I found SP I felt worthless, purposeless and like a failure. I’ve failed at everything I’ve attempted in my life, but when it came to being there for you guys I felt like I meant something. Like I could actually help people like me. However, when those thoughts start to whirl around in my mind every negative, demonic energy creeps up and tells me why I’ll never be worth it and while I’ll never make a difference. I’ve always felt as if I was in search of something, something fulfilling. I’m not sure if it’s love, success, attention or God.
I just know I’m tired of feeling empty. I’m so tired of being depressed. I’m tired of fighting myself. I’m tired of letting other people tell me how I should feel. I’m tired of letting people tell me that there is something wrong with me and believing it. The past week has been the worst out of the past 2 years. You guys I have NO LIFE. No friends. No job. NOTHING. I sit in my house everyday. Most of the time for 2 weeks straight. You are blessed if you get to interact with other humans no matter how much they suck. I swear I feel like I’m losing my damn mind. I don’t want this. All I wanted to do this past week is die. I just wanted everything to end. I was just so tired of being a disappointment to myself and everyone around me. See, I love music and when I was a little girl it was all I wanted to pursue. As I’ve gotten older I gave up. There are a plethora of reasons why : my insecurities, guilt, fear, and the pedestal music culture has created for people with certain sounds. I gave up. I know it sounds cheesy and pathetic but I gave up. And no matter how good I want to feel about helping people (which I really do, I love you guys and I’m praying for you all) all of my dreams that I gave up on are haunting me.
It’s like I think people are thinking a certain way about me, and are feeling a certain way about me, when its just me… I’m making all of this shit up in my head. I’m the reason I’m not doing it and for the past week I just couldn’t understand why in the hell can’t I get out of my own way. I’ve calmed down and I actually read this article where this guy says “Don’t make any major life decisions until you calm down, drink some water and get a good nights rest”. If he was anywhere near me at the time of reading that I would’ve knocked him the hell out. I was so angry. So miserable.
You ever feel so much pain that you get sick, literally sick and tired? I’m sooo tired of feeling like this. Not I’m gonna kill myself tired. I’m “I’ve hit rock bottom and this depression has to go” tired. I hope you guys don’t think I’m talking like my life is so easy, because it’s not and it has never been. I’ve dealt with situations from being molested as a child, having my first suicide attempt at 8 years old and being constantly reminded of my failures (by family members). Just remember sometimes people suck, but if you need me I’ve got your back and I’m praying that an army of angels comes to battle every demonic energy draining you of hope and happiness. I know this is long I’m sorry.
THANK YOU FOR READING THIS!!!
Nobody knows that I suffer from depression. I walk and talk with a smile, confidently and securely. But I ache. With each step that I take, it’s like the ground pushes back on my feet, sends a vibration up my body til my teeth shake and I bite my tongue. I bite my tongue to not cry. To not scream. To not die. I hate my skin and yet I love it. Why do I lotion it? What does it even matter to a body that doesn’t want to live? I wake up and I eat. What does eating matter to a stomach that doesn’t want to exist? I work. What does work have to do with anything? What is money?
Yes, I notice how beautiful it is today. The sun, the breeze. Or the moon and stars. I love it. The air is crisp. I appreciate it. But I don’t want to be here. There is nothing like the pain of sex and claws on my back, hoping that your lover will dig his nails into you and rip out your heart as you climax. This is how I want to die.
Nothing satisfies. Nothing is clean enough. Nothing is dirty enough. I am sad, completely. I laugh during a movie. Then I want to cry. I draw a picture. Then I want to die. I listen to a good song. Then I want to die. This is depression. This is my life. This is my heartache.