People don’t care until you’re dead. I think we all know that now. I wish it wasn’t true. i wish there was some sort of way to show people how much they’re hurting me. I wanna hurt them back by leaving. By doing this act of killing myself. To show them how much shit they made me go through. I hope they cry. It must be very morbid for me to say all this but that’s how I feel. How can I help it?
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I wish I could have some sort of authority. I do well with power, I get things done. Everything is about control. Everything  is about power. It’s all about who listens to you, who you listen to, and how shit gets done.
if I committed suicide…
I wonder how many
gasps,
cries,
screams,
tears,
or words will be spoken as a sign of love.
But them I remembered…
It’s 2:30 am and I’m
alone,
tired,
scared,
sore,
and silently screaming for help no one really
notices,
cares,
thinks,
shows any sort of affection.
if I commit suicide…
please don’t say you
loved me,
missed me,
cared for me ,
or found beauty within me,
or I should’ve tried harder.
Because […]
Chances are if you’re typing on a computer and you have Internet access, you’re probably in a first world country. Your problems are those that evolve from living in that environment. Which isn’t that unthinkable, because I can relate.
Wondering what sort of things someone in a third world country would say on here. I’m thinking ignorance is bliss, so suicide is probably a foreign concept.
Today is some sort of miracle for people around here, because it’s almost 70℉ (that’s something like 21 â…‘ ℃) – a radical change from the wintery, disgusting crap we’ve been getting over the past few months. The sun actually exists now, and people are throwing Frisbees around campus (I was dumbfounded, too) just for shits and giggles, I guess. I’ve read journals that say that winter is typically a shit time for depression, because there’s no sun or Vitamin D or much else interesting in that area.
So, here’s to a less depressing spring. And summer, and whatever else there is.
Oh, […]
Hello everybody.  I am speechless (as you can see). I joined here because i am really weak at making decisions (like death or life, joy or sadness..). I mean i and my mind are living different lives. On one day i make about three- four mind changes. I just don’t  know which one I am right now. I am always copying someone. I mean i can be myself (sometimes) but  mostly i’m trying  to be someone different. i always  think too much. i was in mental hospital. i was in mental hospital for month, i wanted to stay there more. i don’t even know why […]
I suffer from dysthymia, or persistent depressive disorder as it’s called now. I’ve been like this since I was 13, so for 20 years I’ve been in this continuous depressed state, with the occasional bouts of major depression. I’ve been on meds for 10 years.
Sometimes I think maybe my natural state of being is depressed and the meds are just some sort of weight suppressing my true state. When I think this way I accept my depression. I accept I will never be happy. I accept I will never be loved. I have no hopes, wants or dreams. This is what I am. What I […]
I think I work pretty hard to improve my life and then seemingly from a place I can only understand as the most subtle subconscious, I feel awful. This morning I asked God to take away the suicidal thoughts and I was granted a reprieve. I’m terrified of the prospect of trying to create some sort of life out of this I feel like there is a stake of fear driven through my heart.
I don’t post very much, but I read everything, every day. I’ve seen some pretty insane stories here. Rape victims. Divorces gone terribly awry. Abusive parents, siblings, or other family members. People who lost everything. The list goes on and on; the list of, for lack of a better name, “typically depressed” people.
It’s incredible to me how the “typically depressed” crowd (and I say that with extreme respect) can be so strong. Lots of people have bounced back from these insane ordeals better than they were before. Sure, they’re depressed for awhile, but they “get over it,” […]
So tomorrow I’m going to a friend of mine’s house to have a sort of anti-valentine’s day party. Not really a party, just some mutual friends, some food, and some weed. The thing is, my mother decided to tell me she’s going to drug test me the day after. I’m at the point where I don’t really care if she catches me. I’m at a really low point, even though I’m young. I want to smoke and forget about all of my stresses. I’m not the type of person to do crazy drugs like acid or cocaine. I don’t like any of that stuff. I […]
I am sort of in a conundrum and I would like advice.
I guess I’ll start at the beginning. I am in a group of friends that are all dating(or at least have someone), and they were trying to set me up with people. They think that me getting a boyfriend would somehow cure my depression. Well I got set up with this guy. He is a lot like me, he is battling depression and is super awkward.
But I don’t know honestly. I don’t know if I am pretending to like him just for my friends sake, or maybe I’m just overthinking everything. But […]
it’s happening again. I thought I could move and everything would be better. I’ve tried. I’m exercising, I’m in a new location, I have new friends, I’m pretty, smart, talented, etc. what the fuck is wrong with me
I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t do anything. except sit here and feel sorry as fuck for myself. because that’s all I am is sorry. I don’t know how I’m gonna get better. nothing is working. I can’t do it alone. I need some sort of medical help because this shit isn’t working. I wish I could leave myself. like it’s so easy for […]
I miss the first time we kissed. November 4, 2009. I smiled the whole way home. I tried to stop, but I couldn’t. I was so happy. I miss the first time you wrap your arms around me, kissed my cheek. I miss the first time you called me babe. I miss the beginning, when we didn’t want to say I love you, so we said i <3 u. I miss the first time you said you loved me. I miss the feeling of being loved, I was so blown away at the fact that someone could actually like me, none the less love me. […]
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