I am Me. Thats all I have ever wanted to be. But me being me has never been enough for anyone, ever. Silence calms me, the dark sings lullabies til I finally go to sleep. Sometimes, which is most of the time….I truly have nothing to say to you or anyone and it never bothered me until it bothers everyone else. I have been apologetic, bothered, disturbed, mute, sad, angry, hurt because of your own feeling of being unnerved by silence. I welcome it and want to go to it.
Pent up in here
Left all alone, I’m with
The one I most fear
I’m sick and I’m tired
Just want to break out
Shake off this skin
Loom larger than life
I can’t swallow
Seems like my shadow
Mocks every stride
Can I learn to live with
What’s trapped inside?
Pent up in here
Left all alone, I’m with
The one I most fear
I’m sick and I’m tired
Just wanna break out
Shake off this skin
I can’t escape myself
I can’t escape myself
I need some company
I miss the noise of life
The silence deafens me
The minutes I can’t kill
I keep an eye on the time
I catch it standing still
In my hour of need
Sometimes I get so near
I journey aimless days
But always end up here
In my hour of need
In my hour of need
In my hour of need
If each cut could speak. If each scar could scream. They’d tell you the reason their there. Upon my arms, legs, stomach hips…every part. They’d tell you it’s for many reasons. Memories of the abuse, the rape replays in my mind. Voices shout say it was my fault…that I should abuse myself. Maybe I’m so use to it, that it’s the one thing I know well. My reasons..are one to many. Abused, pain. anger, hate….some even a suicide attempt or two. But there are a million reasons, if only they could speak…they’d tell you
I’m in a fairly blissful mood atm. Its probably the chicken wings. The game is about to start. Im semi rooting for Carolina because im in South Carolina. I honestly could care less though. I just hope the Comercials aren’t annoying. I’m in a pretty zen mood. I usually post when im suicidal. I figured I’d post when I’m not. Ive been through to much not to enjoy the peaceful moments.
Hi.. I am MrSilent. There is not much to know of me so I won’t bother with the details. I will give a very broad background of why I have chosen this name..
For years and counting, I have been silent. Silent of my emotion, silent of my thoughts and silent of my life and it’s duration. Recently, I’ve stumbled upon this community. I thought it would be quite interesting to be able to speak through text.. I have much to say but I will save most for later if I am still living. There is not a doubt that I am slowly collapsing, so, one day I will no longer be here to post for anyone who would actually read, or, see this, or, even follow each post. Some just don’t understand that being silent is the hardest for many..
Now that that’s all out of the way.., For many years, I have tried reaching out for assistance but ended up being the assistance for others. Apparently, people needed someone with ears and no mouth to speak to. I was the perfect guy for the job, of course. Hearing their stories.. I envied them. Many would claim that my mind is clouded with ignorance. I wouldn’t blame them, but at the same time, they would also be ignorant for not knowing my experiences as we all have different reactions towards the same and different scenarios and such. Therefore, it’s just a vicious cycle of people picking at each other trying to point out who’s the “real” insensitive one. But I digress.. From my perspective, these people have ideal lives from what they’ve told me and I would kill to have what they did.. So, that’s what I want to do. I want to kill for a new life.. I want to trade my life for a new one.
What’s stopping me? The fact that I must start life all over again. The fact that everything I’ve learned will be gone. My morals and perspective may even be different. This is all still giving the benefit of the doubt that there even is a chance at starting a new life after your current one has passed..
Friends, Family, Girlfriend.. All of them I love dearly.. But, I’ve never experienced being selfish. It’s always been my goal to be selfless. I need to be selfish just this once. I am going to leave them for silence in my mind and ear, rather than my mouth. I need silence. All my life, there’s been nothing but noise. I stay up every night trying to fight the loud thoughts and flashbacks. And now.. at the age of 17, I am exhausted..
Everyday is beginning to seem harder than the day before. Every night is beginning to seem longer. And all the things that have crippled me have become stronger..
If you’re still reading.., thank you. There’s a good chance people would read and say, “why are you complaining? At least you have _____,” but honestly? We all have different reactions to situations, and I would like to say that my current situations are quite unbearable for me.. All of which I will leave for people to piece together. It’ll make things interesting, plus, I really don’t feel like getting into all of it in one post. I may post a little about all of it in each post. “Little breadcrumbs,” I suppose you could call them..
If there really is anyone out there who took the time to read this, please feel free to contact me.. It would be nice to have a friend with similar intentions.. Someone to talk to, rather than just typing stuff and posting it regardless if anyone cares or not.. I am even willing to help comfort those in need. We’re all in this together. It may sound like the cheesiest thing to say, but, if you are reading this from start to finish, our minds may be in some ways alike. That’s why I say that “you’re not alone.” But, I need someone who’s going through the same thing to be able to tell me that.. It would mean the world to me.. Please. Living with a scarred mind just becomes more and more difficult. I’m sure there’s someone out there who’d understand..
I’m beginning to lose my voice; not through a health condition or illness but because everything I say is meaningless…no one listens and I know deep down I’m not worth the time. I’m not funny and I say idiotic things, you’re suppose ignore stupidity right? I guess it makes sense now. I’ve been feeling like this hole in my chest getting deeper and deeper and I know it’ll eventually eat right through me till I’m completely erased. And to be honest, it relieves me. Maybe someday soon I’ll actually work up the courage to finally do it. It just gets so lonely.
It hasn’t always been this way, I’m sure it was that way for a lot of us. It started off as whispers telling me to give up in middle school and developed into voices saying I was never good enough in high school. Now they’re screams repeating no one cares anymore in my mind. In high school I was able to drown it out for moments at a time because of the friends I made and by trying to keep myself occupied. After graduation, I started to do nothing and it all came back.
Since then I have moved three hundred miles away from home. I found someone who I thought could give me the support I needed and we’re engaged now, but he’s starting to see more and more of this side of me and I can feel the disgust and regret in his voice. I’ve tried to explain my feelings as best I could but in the end I only made a fool of myself. I’ve told him that I need help but his response was so bland, “then get help”. It’s not what he said but how, like its a chore now. I’m a chore now to him, nothing but an obligation. He should be with someone more put together, he knows it deep down but his love for me has molded into pity. I guess he thinks I’d do something stupid if he left and chances are that I would but not here.
I’ve tried making friends here but I have forgotten how. No one laughs at my jokes anymore and I’m easily talked over which I guess is okay, I’m going to say something stupid anyways. I don’t have anyone to tell these things to, I don’t think I ever did to be completely honest. I just feel so isolated, so alone and unloved. I want to feel better but I don’t see it as possible. I wish I could just sleep forever. At least my dreams are peaceful.
They’re so loud…the whispers of demons.
I can’t hear my own thoughts at times, and they think I’m just spacing out..going insane.
But when I cut, there’s just silence. It stops. As long as the pain is there, the demons stop. They hide in the corners of my mind, eyeless creatures, hypnotized by the taste of pain. But I can hear..I can hear my friends, my boyfriend, and I can put my mask back on and pretend to be happy again.
But when I’m sober, they’re so loud….the whispers of demons.
Silence is my insanity,
Mother, Mother, stop beating me.
Silence is my laughter,
Father, Father, don’t slaughter her.
We all make mistakes, We all make mistakes,
Stop all this madness and remove all the breaks.
Silence is my sanity,
So why won’t it help me?
Silence is the keystone in my life. It is the builder, the modifier, and the end result. It is the constant. It is a bit like Zero. Anything multiplied by It becomes It. It is undefined in division. It is the representation of Nothing, but It has more meaning than almost any other thing.
Everything returns to Silence. How can Nothing be so prevalent? How can Nothing be so important? Humanity chases the Silence of past generations and declares It history. Humanity chases the secrets hidden in the Silence of space. We always end up in Silence, one way or another. Perhaps It is the proper order of things. Who am I to resist?
I have been in a lot of abusive relationships, and until now, I’ve always been able to fight my way to freedom.
I’ve developed Conversion Aphonia… meaning, because of the trauma I’ve suffered, the emotional, physical and sexual abuse, my voice… will no longer be there…
I can’t speak. I can’t laugh. I can’t even try. No matter how much I try, my body will not let me make a sound.
What am I supposed to do now?
I’m sorry, mom
I’m sorry, dad
I’m sorry, friends
I’m sorry, Family
I’m sorry, body
I’m sorry, mind
I’m sorry, teachers
I’m sorry, voice
I have failed all of you at one point… or every day.
Mom: I’m sorry I am not like my brother, I’m not made of gold and jewels. I am not skinny, smart, good looking, or good at anything. I am sorry I am failing school, I am sorry you are embarrassed to call me your daughter. I am sorry that you are ashamed to be in public with me because I am not thin like all the other girls. I am sorry I don’t do make-up and my hair, I am sorry I can’t be like them. I understand if you want me gone so you can stop looking at how much of a failure and hopeless waste I am. I am truly sorry I am not what you want me to be. I really am.
Dad: I am sorry I was born a girl. I am sorry that I am not good enough for you to love me as much as you should. I am sorry that I must be bad enough that you ignore me, and when you don’t ignore me, you criticize me. I am so sorry that I have failed you at not being your “perfect girl”……
Friends: I am sorry that I haven’t done my job. I am sorry that sometimes I try too hard to fit in and it shows and it embarrasses you. I am sorry that I am unsocial and have bad depression. I am sorry that there is no way of changing me into a thin, fun, and always happy girl… I am so so sorry. If I could change, I would.
Family: Mom and Dad, I already apologized to you. But to my brothers, I am sorry that I cause you stress and grief. I am sorry that I am not a fun little sister, I am sorry that I am hopeless and cause Mom and Dad stress. I am sorry that I can’t talk to you, I’m sorry that I can’t comprehend everything you say. I am sorry I can’t obey.
Body: I am sorry, I am sorry that you have scars. I am sorry that you have stretch marks. I am sorry that I have beaten and bruised you. I am sorry that you aren’t perfect. I am sorry that you are in pain so much, I am sorry that you have to deal with being the center of my harassment most of the time. I am sorry that you are full of lumps and bumps and mounds. I am sorry that you are being compared to every other girl’s body and are so different. I am sorry.
Mind: I am sorry that you are so screwed up. I am sorry that I have killed you. I am sorry that you have been lost and hurt so many times. I am sorry that you are filled with so much negativity. I am sorry that you are not being used properly and that you are underdeveloped. I am sorry that I put the wrong things on you and that I abuse you. I am sorry.
Teachers: I am sorry I can’t pass your classes. I am sorry that you are upset because I am not smart enough. I am sorry I get so many things wrong, I am sorry that you have to deal with my stupidity. I am sorry that you have to see me every day and have to deal with being around me. I know you don’t like me, and you know that I wish I could be better. I wish I could be.
Voice: I am sorry that you are left out. I am sorry that you are silent. I am sorry that you are used for the wrong words. I am sorry that you have to deal with being a part of me. I am sorry that you are being forced to be a part of me, I feel sympathy for you. That such a beautiful voice is being wasted on someone like me. I am so sorry.
If I could disappear, I would be doing everyone a favor. If I could make my lungs stop expanding, I would. If I could make my heart stop beating, I would. I wish I could make all your lives easier by just not being here. I’m sorry.
“I swear I hear your voice, it’s driving me insane”
Some days are better than others. My bad days though, they shatter me. On my bad days it feels like somebody has opened up my chest, taken a handful of my heart, and ripped it out. Some days I don’t miss him, but when I do, my entire being misses him. He wasn’t just my boyfriend, he was my best friend. I know.. how cliche right? Well it’s the truth. He knew how to handle me at my worst, he loved me unconditionally and wiped away all of my tears. He took it when I screamed at him even when he didn’t deserve it, which he didn’t 98% of the time. He took away what I used to hurt myself, he talked to me in the counselors office at school and would spend all night talking to me. He’d hold me while I slept and kiss my forehead so I’d know I would be okay for the night. I guess if anything, I don’t miss the relationship, I miss the friendship. I miss having someone who understood what I was going through. I miss having someone that I could be myself around. I miss having someone who knew that I could snap at any second but still chose to stick by my side. I just miss him. I miss him everyday and not talking to him makes it that much more harder. Seeing him randomly at school, it hurts. It’s like a stab to my chest. Deep and painful. I don’t know how much longer I can handle the silence between us.
Numb. Tears. Fear. Loss. Alone. Him. Gone. Stupid. Black&White. Sound. Betrayal. Silence. Eyes. Looks. Words. Judgements. Ache. Need. Dreams. Darkness. Where. Why. Please. Him. Him. Him, him, him, him, him, him, him…
Every night I lie down in bed and resolve that tonight I am not gonna sleep until i sort it all and find a way out. but within 15 minutes i fall asleep, and wake up next morning only to find that nothing is sorted and i will have to live another day in confusion and restlessness. I don’t know why I can’t accept the fact that there is no answer and all these are just excuses.
P.S. – I know there are people here who can’t get easy sleep. but as it is said – one doesn’t know the value of thing until its gone. so by the virtue of my ignorance i ask their forgiveness. I also know that people suffer from loneliness. I don’t know, but i seem to envy them. here in my house whole day there is some noise going on..people talking, creaking of gates. and in night when i get some silence and think that now i will clearly think about myself i fall asleep. so its like there are some who suffer from lack of time and there are some who suffer from over-abundance of time.
there is a ghazal in hindi: “kahin kisi ko mukammal jahan nahi milta”, which means nobody gets the world he wants.
I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety issues, as well as PTSD a few months ago now. I’ve had a doctor, a counsellor, a psychologist and a psychiatrist all working really hard with me to try and straighten some stuff out, and we were doing really well for a while there. I took all the meds, I answered all the questions, I attended every appointment, I talked, I listened, I did everything they all said. But I am so tired and so worn down, that I think I’ve finally had enough.
I cancelled my psychologist appointment this week. She is an incredibly talented woman, so good at her job. But my head is defective, so I am wasting her time. I’ll go to my last psychiatrist appointment because I can’t afford the cancellation fee, but I won’t book another. The dr and counsellor don’t even need to know.
Trying to fix this is futile. The black cloud in my head will never disappear, just be temporarily muted. There is no escape for me. Just a weight on my chest and an anchor fixed to my heart. I’m just waiting now, for when my plans are backed with purpose.
I have no time or date, but I truly believe this is it. I’ll pack up my room, rehome my dog, separate from friends and just disappear.
Oblivion is such a beautiful concept. Silence is my utopia. I’ve found my corner, and finally discovered that the only way out is down.
(I) IS THE EGO MAKER the false self (i am just is) to write what 1 thinks dont matter anymore bcuz 1 knows it is in the being the silence of nothing that i find myself as free immortal love primordial energy although i have chosen to loose myself and be a trolling bstad to survive i get angry and frustrated from that bliss i used to be my heart broke this is what causes me to want to suicide and i am very capable as i have done it b4 and was saved i live for other 1s there attachment and love to me but secretly i wish to disappear i know to much and even my writing is contradictory to what i know maybe this is a successful suicide story the end feels near my broken <3 wants to go home and thats a good thing but not for all the friends and family that have attached me i feel trapped by there energy i wish to be free!~
Just waiting the sweet moment when a finaly get out of this place i just can remember or imagine i asked to be at.
Hoping thatÂ´s dont take to long.
Hoping thatÂ´s dont be with to much suffering, no because iÂ´m afraid to suffer, in a fact is there something more painfull than be alive? This hope come from certainty all this is just a waist of time anyway.
When this feeling started? I just canÂ´t remember and i dont even care about it.
Maybe in small things, small people, small everything…
Dead sweet dead, make no alarm, no sound, no signal… just come here and do your f…… Â¨ Job !!!
Bad english, i know…
Some good lines from one of the best movies ever, The Sunset Limited (2011)
“Well, here is my news,
I long for the darkness.
I pray for death, real death.
And if I thought that in death I would
meet the people I knew in life,
I don’t know what I would do.
That would be the ultimate horror,
the ultimate nightmare.
If I thought I was gonna…
only this time without the prospect
of death to look forward to,
that would be
the final nightmare,
Kafka on wheels.
I want the dead to be dead
And I want to be
one of them.
My heart warms
just thinking about it…
and all of it
only a heartbeat away.”
If some one go before me… Peace
Obs: I dont know if a can post a youtube link…if not allowed… i remove or please edit thios post….
I thought I would be okay, but in three day’s time, I had another accident.
A few days ago, I slit my wrist up. Never deep enough to kill, but just enough sting to get the point across. I padded it up and wrapped an ace bandage around it, claiming I just sprained it. No one at work questioned it, my boyfriend didn’t say anything outright about it. It’s hard to keep things from him though. So I told him. He grabbed my wrist and took a glance. He said my name, which sounded so… Off. It doesn’t feel right when he says it. It hasn’t for a while. I digress.
So we found ourselves sitting on the balcony of our apartment, my razors in hand; one slightly rusted razor blade that I had stolen from work (I wonder if they ever noticed I was stealing the blades?) and one from a child’s pencil sharpener. I tossed them into the grass below us.
Well so much for that.
I found another blade.
Today we were supposed to go to his grandparents’ for his grandma’s birthday. It started at 3:30 and I was still at work at 3:20. So I text him, telling him he could go ahead and leave, hoping that he’d say no. That he’d stay with me and we could go together. He says “Okay, meet you there” and leaves. I pass him on my way home.
So there I found myself alone (which is never good). I found myself alone with the razor.
And it happened.
I don’t think I’ll ever get better…
This time he won’t find out because they’re on my legs and I’m keeping my mouth shut. I have to suffer in silence. He won’t notice them unless we get intimate (and that’s never, which has a huge impact on my self-esteem and why I hurt myself. Silly I know, but it happens nonetheless.).
I don’t know what to do anymore…
And I’m scared it’s just going to get worse.
My heart needs refuge, my mind needs silence and my hands, my hands always empty, wishing one day they can enjoy the taste of affection.
I watch their hands interlock and I wonder if my hands are too small or too ugly to be held. Always cold, always lonely are the knots in my fingers making it impossible for them to properly fit. Do the deep honest lines cut like razors too close to your skin. I wonder, I wonder about all the moments they’ve spent lifeless and confused.
I place my heart in a jar and my mind just needs medication but my hands…