Vincent Willem van Gogh – July 29, 1890
Yesterday I went for a walk, somehow I felt a little better. I saw some horses and watched them for awhile. Walked in the rain, but it felt good, at least it made me feel. But last night I looked on the internet and there is so much – so much of the opposite of what I’ve always thought was beautiful. Gentleness, tenderness, sweetness, paintings that move you deep inside, someone that would help a neighbor, little children being allowed to be innocent, dreams, words that carry weight, words that mean something. I start to think I wish something had happened to me awhile ago, and at least I could have gone still believing in something, still feeling that there is a kind of magic in living.
It is all so sordid now.
Today I feel so cold, literally and in my heart. It is so awful. Not to feel. Everytime I get a little hope or a little peace. Well, you know the story.
My family is starting to worry about me, yesterday my brother came home to check on me. (I am staying at his Â house)Really. I am afraid to look in the mirror. I know people tell me it is irrational but I feel it has changed me, inside and out. I asked for help when I started to feel like this but couldnt find any.
I used to ask my dad questions like, what is eternity, where is the end of it, if i live in China wouldn’t I believe different things? I used to find little injured animals and try to save them. Â I believed there was magic. I actually thought i could fly if I believed it hard enough. (okay, so that didn’t work) Sometimes people said I was a little slow because I would just stare at people but I was thinking all kinds of things. I was sweet. I was a sweet girl.
You know how some people say they would do everything exactly the same? That’s insane. I would change a thousand things. I would have stayed away from my family as much as possible. Stayed at the library all day and even maybe run away. I would have just gone to my classes and read and kept my head down. I would have gone to college but not listened to anyone’s advice which interfered with what I truely wanted. If I had followed my own heart – I think I would have been okay. My mistake was trusting other people, assuming they meant well. But of course, how could I have known that. I would have had to been raised by healthy people.
I don’t want to be boring here, but I feel today something very bad has happened in my mind and my body. I’m scared. Nothing feels real anymore. I don’t trust anything. I pull the blanket over my head and it is the only time I feel the littlest bit safe. I pray. Maybe I need to pray more today. Sometimes I call a prayer line. Do you think I’ve lost my mind? It’s cold out, do you think that can affect your mood when you are on the edge? Its windy and cold. Yesterday was sunnier and a little warmer. Do you think when you are vulnerable things like the weather can make a difference?
I washed my face like 3 times last night and I keep thinking I’ve now ruined my skin. Does that sound obsessional? It couldn’t really be real could it? Could you ruin your skin by washing it 3 times? I put honey on my skin because I read it’s good for it, then after a bit I worried and washed it off. And I did that kind of thing again several times and now my skin seems puffy and my face feels kind of soft and swollen at the same time. Do you think I’m cracking up? I have image problems now. I wouldn’t tell this to anyone else, but I feel safer here.
If anyone manages to read all of this, thank you.
I just had one, simply because someone else posted something moronic on their facebook. Some bible quote:
My thoughts were like this; that is right, I am trash, I am going to be trodden upon, because I have no savour, and I can’t fight for myself, I’m horrible and pathetic and damaged, with no morals, no motivation, no drive.
Its like pearls before swine, and I am swine. A nothing, a pig, a ghost already dead just walking around in a bag of flesh. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror, because I can see my own cowardly trembling.
Maybe its all true, but I told myself, there is no need to panic, if my karma is to be so, and there isn’t anything I can do about it, then what am I worried about?
I worry about doing the right thing often.
If there were a chance for me to be alive again, and I had to risk everything to be alive again, could I do it? Could I run away from what seems to be a useless and empty life?
But I am a coward, I can’t do it and I need others But I am surrounded by people who don’t see the real m at all. All they see is a broken thing. I used to be an artist, with hundreds of drawings and paintings. I haven’t been able to finish anythingÂ for years.
In the meantime, my sisters, who have always had things easier than me, have absolutely no love for me, the broken one. I am the oldest, and yet, all of my younger siblings have more friends and more money than me. I am really truly a broken thing.
I have no one to support me except for what I have right here.. But am I supposed to let others control my life? Or Aa I supposed to break free and I’m not seeing the slow evil that I am surrounded by? I lost my soul, it left my body, I think when I was about 10 years old. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to at all, but I see it in every aspect of my life, a sad, slow descent into nothingness. . .
I’m 26 now. . .
I’ve wanted to kill myself at various times throughout the past 5 years. Â About two months ago I started to become serious about it and began to plan my death. Â This was after I had gotten out of the psychiatric hospital (my 7th hospitalization since 17 years old). Â I was in the hospital for almost 4 weeks and received 6 electro-convulsive therapy treatments. Â I also got put on some new medications which didn’t do anything to no surprise. Â I was however started on adderall which was the only thing that got me out of bed and able two at least go through the motions of life within the past couple months. Â I stopped taking it though. Â I actually stopped taking all my meds except for tramadol which I swiped from a family friend. Â Anyway, I went in to the hospital suicidal, and out of control, and came out more Â suicidal, and more in control because I knew that suicide was what I needed to do.
I am suprisingly at peace with myself right now. Â I attribute that to the fact that I have obtained all necessary parts for my method of choice and I know that I could choose to leave at any moment. Â I am now realizing just how difficult this is going to be though. Â So many things to take into consideration…I have a letter along with a couple paintings and some pictures for my ex girlfriend who broke up with me in a shitty way earlier this year, Â I cleaned my basement up quite a bit and threw out a ton of stuff–I feel like I should get rid of everything or at least box it up so my mom isn’t forced to. Â I have a shit ton of artwork which I would like to give to people. Â Sign over the money in my accounts to my mom…
I keep giving myself an ultimatum of when I am going to do it but I keep pushing it back. Â I really don’t want to go back to work and I can’t just keep doing nothing but taking tramadol, masturbating and rewriting shitty letters to my my ex everyday. Â I don’t want to live. Â I have no interest in pursuing my career, meeting someone new, traveling, or starting a family, and I definitely couldn’t bear to see another christmas. Â All I do now is worry my mom and the rest of my family, and waste 100 dollars of my moms money on therapy which she makes me go to every week as long as I am living with her. Â I’m sick of talking to people about my “problems” and I’m sick of being myself.