i ate a fortune cookie. the fortune read,
‘if you would have managed your plans properly, it would not have caused chaos.’
ironic, right? as, it hits pretty close to home.
oh lord, I don’t know what I’m doing anymore
I got way too drunk last night because I haven’t been able to eat anything all week. Only had a few drinks but I was still stumbling
party hopped across the city, ended up a drunk crying mascara and nose running whimpering mess in my (extremely recently) ex boyfriend’s roommates room with amazing and way too nice friends holding me. broke down because I found out he had taken a girl home last night even though we broke up less than a week ago (1.5 year relationship, pretty long time for a 21 year old)
took my friend home, stumbled into MY roommate’s room crying (second night in a row. just trying to be consistent here) sat there for a few minutes, locked myself in my room with a knife. i bled on the beautiful white sheets that my mom bought me. I haven’t cut in years and I woke up (still drunk) to see a long line all the way down my forearm. i was going for my vein. i wanted to bleed
I didn’t do it because he broke up with me, I’m not that kind of crazy, I’m the kind of crazy that has been depressed for years and years and years and finally thought she was getting better and finally was truly excited about life and not just trying to trick herself into believing she was excited. I did it because I never came to terms with losing my dad when I was 13 and being raped at 19 and because I hate how I have all these sweet caring friends who just want to help and be there for me and how my mom sent me flowers when she heard about the breakup and I just want everyone to stop spending money on me and stop spending emotions and energy on me I feel so bad. this post is almost as much of a mess as I am sorry about that usually I feel like a graceful writer. but I’m still shaking from a long run this morning and the blood on my sheets and I didn’t know where else to turn and I want to help all of you beautiful souls get through the day but i realized i don’t even know how to survive the next hour.
skimming through the last few paragraphs I feel even guiltier because I know from reading some of your stories that you have been trekking through literal hell and I’m just a privileged selfish potentially narcissistic white girl who can’t figure out how to behave like a fucking normal rational healthy person and who can’t get over things that happened almost a decade ago. I feel like I’m burning through my parent’s money being at college and I’m praying that I make it through my major and get a well paying job so I can give back to them because they’ve given me so much i need to get out of bed and get to the library to study but I am so weak and dizzy and I can’t get the fucking quinoa down my throat I tried calling emergency after hours mental health services last night but I got scared and hung up the phone while I was being transferred to a counselor
my mom had so many miscarriages before she was able to have me. so sorry you’re stuck with me and not one of the other ones.
sorry SP for this rambling stream-of-conciousness mess. I think I just needed to say some of this and wasn’t sure where else to turn. You are amazing people. You are so strong. You support each other through the hardest of times. You look out for each other. I want you to know that I read your posts and they touch my heart and I want to reach out to every single one of you and give you a hug or a sympathetic ear or a drink, whichever helps you. I want to be there for you. thinking about all of you.
guess it’s long sleeves for a while.
Despite already having a post typed out for today, I’ve decided to change it and write this instead. Because I just realised several minutes ago just how little my mum cares.
I’ve been an emotional mess all day for no apparent reason, so I refused to step foot outside my room until 3 in the afternoon. Before that, no one bothered to come into my room to check on me. But we’re ignoring all that as I’m fast forwarding to not too long ago.
Recently, there has been a girl coming in my room at night. Her name is Bree, and she’s around my age. Every night (as well as the voices and demons) she has been here. She kind of like Jeremy, but not as friendly. She’s more horrible. I’m going off my whole point here, oops.
Tonight she told me to cut myself, but I kept refusing as I have done the last 2 or 3 nights. Long story short – she screamed for 2 hours before I gave in. So I had an arm covered in blood to the point where skin wasn’t visible (I’m talking in past tense when I’m still bleeding, oh well). I’d finished cutting when my stepdad came upstairs, so I had to cover my light and stay still. Then my mum came out her room and I had to stay still even longer.
Eventually, they both left and went to bed and I uncovered my light. As I was about to clean myself up, one of my dogs pushed my door open. Followed quickly by my mum. By now my light was directly on my arm, making this mess of a limb entirely visible to her.
And my mum just stands there, glancing between my face and my arm, before shutting the door and going to bed.
I don’t care about the fact that she didn’t become sympathetic and ask why I did it (like usual). No. I’m upset about how she didn’t care enough to see if I’m okay. I’m pissed off that she didn’t bother to do anything. She just left and is sound asleep now. I knew she didn’t care about me, but she could at least not be so upfront about it.
Now that I think about it, I think the main reason I haven’t bothered to clean up my arm is because I’m probably going to do it again. And maybe I’ll just let myself bleed out a bit more. Just so I get weaker. And then I can just take that shitload of pills I’ve been stashing and building up for months, just to see what happens this time. I’m in one of those moods where I’m feeling self destructive , yet everything is hilarious. Funny self destruction.
It was roughly about this time last year that that darkness swooped in and took over.
It’s happened before, but in time would usually pass, this time, it’s remained.
Every day is a struggle, I’ve tried so many things to shake it..
Girls, drinking, exercise, working, everything just a temporary distraction, just clicking off the seconds, trying to make it through another day.
Finding this site has helped, a place to vent, to read other peoples experiences and feel a certain kinship, to know am not alone, dealing with a life that once promised so much potential, now, just a daily chore to remain,hoping for better days.
Am on medications now, have appointments with a counselor. Still have 2 women in my life that want to be with me, but don’t match up to the one I really felt life had a reason worth living for.
It all seems so pathetic,like,dude, why can’t you just snap out of it?
Who cares if you’re losing your hair, don’t really have family, have lost opportunities to be stable and happy, life goes on, right, and all that mess about what you survive makes you stronger.
The pep-talks just don’t really seem to work anymore.
I distance myself from my friends not wanting them to see this side of me, but it’s been the dominant side for a year now.
I don’t know, it’s strange how life can so easily slip into such a mess. I both cherish and am haunted by the memories of when life was more carefree.
Just numb these days I suppose, hanging on, not sure exactly what for, but hanging on.
Thank you to everyone posting their stories and offering support for one another, it does help, it does offer some comfort and hope. I just hope peace can find us all, in same capacity, at some time.
Tomorrow I have an appointment in the hospital about suicide stuff after I was admitted two weeks ago.
I plan on killing myself on April 6th.
They brought up youth protection services a few times, and let me be real, I am not in accordance to that.
I can’t let them admit me and keep me in. I have to get myself out the mess that well, it feels, they created.
What do I tell them? What lies?
I gotta figure out something.
She’s a circle
I’m a dot
She’s a guest
I’m a pest
I’m a mess
She’s my goals
I’m my failure
©2016 Ashley Williams
As I watched moody superheroes fight i realized what this movie is accurately describes my life. It means well has some good parts. But is too depressing and meaningless to be truly enjoyed. Im too much of a fat pos to ever be cared about. I’m too incompetent to improve my life. I’m giving myself 18 months. Its a very short amount of time. If things aren’t improving then it’s off with my head. Im so tired of impoverished lonelines, alienation, and obesity as normalcy. I’m not living. This isn’t living.
it’s been a wile but I guess your due to return
Me-hay insomnia it’s been awhile
insomnia-I know you thought u could hide from me with sleeping pills right ?
me-umm well kinda yeah u keep me up all night messing with my head making me over think and drain the little life I have in me
insomnia – haha well I’m back to kick u in the teeth what u going to go with out them pills now huh ?
Insomnia- you know your life a mess right ?
Me-no I didn’t know it was a mess actually I thought it was going fine if u ask me that’s why I ended up in hospital on Sunday …
insomnia – I know I just wanted to remind u haha -_-
Today I cried and cried all I wanted to do is go to the pool and sit under the water for as long as i can hold my breath i love the water it makes me happy . but I cant mt husband is still alseep and im not allowed to drive . so i need him for it so i had a complet painc attack. My freind called and exploded on her. And almost past on the side walk as i cried . as my hubby nosiy grandmother was pissed on why i was walking up down the street in front of the house . and bitched me out as I wanted to faint . but i smiled and said “im just on the phone with her Granddaughter i just feel like walking.” i wanna die I hate my life . i took a pill to melow me out its working i stop crying . i wanna go drown .
On the “passive aggressive office person”. Yeah, there’s 3 of us that work here. Any mess left in the fridge or microwave was from the people who used it – 2 of them are not here anymore. The 1 of us that does use it is the one who complains and so now the boss yells at the 2 of us who don’t use the fridge or microwave ever at all!
Not looking for sympathy here, what I did is what I did. I should have just been there for her as a friend, shouldn’t have given into her subtle advances, taking it to the next stage I knew I’d surely regret. I should have recognized her vulnerability and kept respectable distance with compassion, but I didn’t..
I allowed the night to progress, one beer, 2 beer, 3 beer, talking closer and closer at the arcade bar, her warming up to my unfurling pinball skills, as laughable as that may seem, close contact is close contact.
Suddenly the air is charged. The familiarity of our past, the chemistry between us re-igniting, and the comfort in that place when everything else around is unsure, unstable, falling apart. Thoughts of consequences abandon for that eagerness to belong for an evening.
But I know she’s not the one, I knew before when the same thing happened and derailed everything with the one I do feel is the one.
We finish the chicken tenders and our last beer and she comes over. It’s already decided, there’s no turning back now, and for some reason I think nothing of it, not till the next morning.
When I look over and realize again, as always, she’s not the one. The one I do love, already at work, me always unsure where we are, but know if she knew I was even in contact with the other that there’d be no chance again, and worse than that, severe hurt.
This doesn’t come back into focus till later in the day, till I sheepishly say I can’t be in a relationship, for I still have feelings for her, I still love her, however doubt we’ll ever be together again, I’m still stuck on her.
This breaks my friend’s heart, and I feel terrible causing that hurt, and I drop her off and it’s a sad goodbye.
A goodbye that could have been good had it been the night before, but now damaged, irrevocably so..
And while feeling bad about that, who calls but the one I do love, suggesting she’d like to come over.
Cruel fate I dealt to myself, no way could I oblige, invite her over to the same room, entwine on the same bed the other had departed only hours before. The guilt and shame of it all tearing me apart, all of it my fault, knowing if I were to mention any of it, how forever things between us would be broken.
It’s not cheating, we’re not together, but it’d still break her heart, and so I decline, as much as that hurts, cause all I want is to be back with her again, the one I love, but I fucked it all up.
I routinely fuck it all up, didn’t used to.
I used to have it all together, steadfast and certain of what’s right, denying advances from other girls even when we were in a fuzzy noncommittal zone.
I long for those days, for the relative simplicity of it, just her and I together.
Life has just become such a mess, and in that mess, clinging to whatever suitable offer may present itself for the intimacy of an evening, however falling so short and hollow from the one who really matters.
I just keep thinking there’s no longer a chance for us, and then suddenly there is, only too late. Doomed to be honest and tell her who I’ve been with while we were apart, doomed to guilt and shame for not.
But I did this to myself.
why couldn’t you just say goodbye at the bar?
During the week I work, I workout, I’m busy doing stuff. I have no time to let my mind interfere. The weekends are the worst. I get lonely and depressed. Yesterday I was such a mess. I feel like nothing satiates me. I loathe weekends. I do nothing except ponder why I exist and wait for each moment to pass so I can go to sleep. But today I feel better. Distractions are amazing. To not be able to think… It’s wonderful.
Sometimes I just stare at my wrists when I get like this and wonder what it would be like to plunge a knife through my artery and veins. When the pain eats away at me and crying doesn’t even help. Crying used to help. I felt ashamed the other night when I just cried myself to sleep and woke up and realized that I didn’t take my dog out, that I left my kitchen a mess, that I slept in my clothes. I never do that. I have never cried myself to sleep either.
How can I go on when so many things that remind of all the negatives. My life is just a mess of associations of things I face to hurtful thoughts.
Just want this rough ride to be over. If someone is reading a book and even by a quarter in they arent enjoying it, wouldnt they just put it down?
I guess I’m just trying to wind up the courage to try again had enough of this bull shit anyways being depressed anxious ain’t left the house in days struggle to get out of bed this isn’t life for a 26 year old I would rather be dead I no people have worst lives then I do but iv just mad a mess of things that can’t be fixed and the loneliness is to much to bare anymore hope I get the courage soon
Lately I’ve been feeling so used that I feel useless, like an object instead of a human being.
I feel like I’ve lost all feelings all together from how people have treated me.
All the disrespect, and just seeing how they don’t give a damn or care about how it affects me.
They don’t care because they don’t know that I have feelings.
They mess with me, hurt me in many ways. But do they even notice or care? No. Why?
Because they think I’m just a god damn voodoo doll.