I have a story, just like everyone else. It’s complicated, just like everyone’s, but I’m still different. I won’t explain it all, I won’t tell you all the sappy shit that goes on, because what good will that do? I was always told that the past doesn’t define you, so you should grow up. Right now I don’t feel like growing up, not just yet. Right now I want to live in a moment where I am the person that I have always wanted to be and that my parents will actually be proud of me and not try to change me to their standards. Right now, I love my family and hate them all at the same time. I love my new little sister and my new little brother and my new little cousin and I love my friends and I love the people that made me the person I am, especially the shitty people that I have to say “Fuck you all” to. Yeah, I have a story, yeah I have a life, but the candle is soon diminishing. Soon, if I don’t become the person that my father wants me to be, my freedom will be taken from me and I will not be the same person as I was before. Soon I will become a zombie that does exactly whatever my father wants me to; a slave with no mind. Most likely I’ll have to put up my paint brushes and my writing pen and put my professional glasses on and become a person that I never wanted to be because I always wanted my life to be exciting. And, when my freedom is taken away, I will never be able to see my mother and my step-dad and my little brother anymore because I did not act the way my father wanted me to, because I gave him the kind of attitude that is not tolerated. And when I continue to fight back, I will not see my little sister or my friends, every freedom and thing in the world will be taken away from me on the account that I did not become the person my father wanted. I always thought that I had to please my step-mom and gain her favor while I lived in her house, but it was the other way; I had to gain my father’s favor, his love and affection, I had to change myself just to please him. So, this is me before anything is changed, this is me in this one moment where I love everyone and I am happy, and I’m glad that I can share it with all of you. You, the people who don’t know me, you who know my pain and understand my scars and my thoughts. I can’t live without my freedom, so if I cannot have it, why should I live at all? I will despise myself for giving up, like I would despise all of you who just gave up and didn’t swim to the island that was filled with all your hopes and dreams, but everyone gives up eventually. For me that time may come soon.
If you saw me you wouldn’t look twice, but I am not like you or anyone you know. I was bullied for being fat and having glasses. When i was 13 I slit my wrists in the bathroom. I passed out, woke up a few hours later then went to school the next day. I still have scars. I went to live with my father who would fight with my step-mom every night. Now, my father is dead, drank himself to death. My mother has a druggie boyfriend, my brother is drinking now. I just would rather be on the street than be here anoter minute. No one wants to give me a chance. I have no one and nothing. I want to blow my brains out in front of them. I want a last screw you to them. I want to ruin thier day like so many of mine were ruined. I’ll be gone and life will go on. I really want to do this.
Just called a suicide hotline.. they guy i talked to .. he just kept saying uh well you need to look at it from a better point of view.
I lost my 2nd oldest brother cause my oldest brother raped me! and you exspect me to look on the bright side. I look at his facebook everyday, hoping to get to know him. I DONT EVEN KNOW MY OWN BROTHER. And i hate it.. i hate it so badly. I only found out last week he’s graduated highschool.. i never knew.. i didnt know..
I miss him so badly, we would stay up reading the hungry catapillar, playings sims, grandtheft auto.
One time we were playing base ball on the wii and he hit me in the back of the head. We were laughing so hard. We watch movies about tornados and would laugh when the houses were torn apart.. i was so young.. i didnt relise.. i should have been more… i should have paid more attention.. i miss him so much..
I wanna die.. i wanna die! I WANNA FUCKING DIE! I hate this .. i hate this fucking life.. whats so damn great about it. I HAVE NOTHING left i wanna live for.. my faimaly abandoned me… when i needed them.. i was called a filty liar… diserted.. and i was the one who was raped.
My step mom and dad… are the only ones who stayed by my side
and imagin this while court they “accidently” showed me my dads statement..
” i dont beileve her.. but ill never tell her that”
WHAT THE HELL DO YOU SAY WHEN YOUR OWN FATHER DOESNT BELIEVE YOU!
the one who pushed you to go to court to protect other people, what do you say..
Its getting worse i tell everyone im getting better, they think i am.. but really im just wearing short sleeves with cuts on my shoulder. on my stomach.. on my hips. Where no one can see them.
Where i can shred the skin like paper.. and no one will ever know.
Im sorry my mind is running, im trying to keep calm. But theirs a knife under my matress urging me.. or should i use the scapel.. hidden in my closet.. my the razors.. in my dressor.. or the box cutter in the picture frame..
I want to see the blood draining from my body.. all this hatred.. and sadness.. weakness… to just go away.. to escape me.. i wanna be free if only for a little bit..
I try to supress the urges .. honestly i do.. i keep saying one more minute…
ive been fighting since 11pm.. its 5:11am right now.. and i wanna die..
I found some gas online.. it kills you instantly 289 dollars for a can.. i just need money..
what would happen if i stole my parents credit card.. bought it got it shipped here.
I honestly think i’d do it..
last year on new years i attempted suicide..
i drank rubbing achohal
my cousin found me in the bathroom ..
she called 911 and my dad arrived just as the ambulance pulled up..
I was screamming
I wanted to die.. why ..
why were they making me live
i never even wanted to be born!
i never.. wanted.. to.. be born..
so why.. were .. they had.. noo.. right..
to force me to live in this hell..
You know whats funny they say things will get better.. i found out i was going to court in january 6 , 2011 went to court october 2, 2011 it should have gotten better after court right?
They all lied
it got worse
the ptsd came back with revenge..
for me pushing it away so deep down inside of me..
i forgotten pieces of that night..
and the best they got to offer is meds and a “promise it will get better”
My razors have done far better they any med or promise has ever done for me.
Now i keep whispering one more minute..
one more minute..
one more minute..
one more second..
Soon i know.. time will be up..
Im seeing them again.. the three black circals that cloud my vision…. I wanna cut so badly.. i was using my coping skills again tonight its 2am here. My most useful coping skill at the moment is drawing. My mom (step mom)Â came over to check on me i asked to have more paper. She said no that i need to stop distracting myself and get to sleep.. i just wanted to scream.
She’s the person who doesnt get it most of all. She’s super religious. She doesnt get that im bisexual. I’m just “in a phase” . My cutting is for attention, and my depression is cause i “feel sorry for myself” God will help me she says if i look for him. I have many of times. I’ve prayed. Ive read the bible. Attended church. And he has yet to help me. Through any of this. I dont even understand the bible.
My heads pounding and my wrist itch. It feels like theres maggots under my skin, their on fire. Im trying to exsplain this but i dont think you’ll understand. I dont wanna cut. I dont wanna cut tonight.
I’m trying to breath but my adrenline is building. Waiting for me to grab my tool. Razor? Scissors? Box cutter? Scapel? What should i use tonight. To provide the lethal dose to subdue me.. this monstor lurking just beneath the skin. I know when morning comes i’ll regret it. I’ll hate my self again. I squeeze my wrist sending sharp pains up my arms. But i deserve it. I let my self break again.
The black dots are getting bigger. Its getting harder to think. I dont wanna break tonight. I’m listening to my music. Trying to clear my head. But i only get more confused. As my past memorys force their way into my head. Im panicing now. My heart is racing. My breath more ragged then before. No more.. I dont wanna do this no more.
Its so hard to sit like this trying to keepÂ calm.. exsplain what is happening to me.. why its so hard to move on.
My mom.. why couldnt she just ask me if i was okay. How could she not tell. I’m up at two shakeing and asking for more paper. She knows i NEED to draw right now. But she treats it like its nothing like its something i can control. That its all for attention, cause attention wears longsleeves. Places bandaids on her arms. Pretends shes alright.. and carries on.
I know that this is kind of late, but I just wanted say my piece of what I was thankful for.
I am thankful for the watch that my father bought me; without it, I would never be able to tell the time or know how much time has past. You see, my watch isn’t fancy, and it isn’t too cheap, but its perfect for me because it’s very symbolicÂ to me. My watch symbolizes how much my father really cares that I know what time it is, how he went out of his way to buy me something that was smallÂ even thoughÂ it mattered to me. My watch symbolizes all the time that I have had with him these past three months, how much time we’ve spent together, but also all the time that we missed out on because I needed a reality check a couple of years ago. Right now, my watch is counting down all the time I have left with my father because on December 1st I have to go back to my mother’s. Thankfully, that seems like miles away, butÂ I know that it’s just around the corner, so I’m going to make sure that I spend all the time necessary to be with my father and my step-mom, because time is something I am thankful for when I am with them.
Hey guys, it’s been a while. Things have been going a whole lot smoother, it’s been better since September, but I’ll make sure to catch everyone up. During the summer, I went over to my father’s house more often and I enjoyed the time I got to spend with him and my step-mom, I enjoyed feeling free and responible at the same time; it was so much like cutting. Then, a little bit afterwards, my mom got pregnate, it’s the first time this has happened in five years and I am just freakin’ excited and happy for her, but she’s taken it way too far out. She’s trying to be the people that say “The Earth is the center of the universe”, which didn’t turn out to be correct, and crazy enough, my aunt Shannah is pregnate again, the same guy who knocked her up almost three years ago and is still in jail and won’t go to see his kids or pay his child support. Yep, my life has gotten crazy, especially towards the end of August. My mother started to be sick and tired of my sister, of how she wanted to go over to our father’s house and live with him, so she came up with the idea of kicking her out of the house for three months and having her live with our father. And then I started acting up, I started to get upset with my mother because I couldn’t believe how she would just do that to my sister, make her leave just so she could see “the man that my father really is”. So, because I “defied” against her, I was going too. And, for my last magic trick for my mother, IÂ Â cut my anger out, I cried and tried to take out whatever it was inside me that made me so bad. I was hurt, because I was mommy’s little girl, and I would back her up, but my sister was always before her, and she hated that, so I did what she said that I was always doing to her, I began to rebel for the last three days. There were so many cuts (I promise they are now all healed.) and so much pain, and it was just the last night before I was supposed to leave that I had my courage. I used to have this box that contained ALL my cutting tools; glass, knifes, razors, even a suicide note of mine that I read. My mother always promised me that when I got better and didn’t cut we would throw it out, together. That was two years ago, and every time I would remind her about it, she told me that she kept it there for me to remember to never cut again; but she didn’t know that she was my reminder that I WANTED to cut. So, I finally threw away that box without her because I grew up enought to know that she wouldn’t grow up.
Now, for the past two months, I have been happier than ever! I feel so much better, so much more alive and like I have a purpose, all because I finally found what I had always wanted; a family. The family I dreamed of was how we would all spend time together, help eachother out, drive each other a little nuts sometimes, but we loved each other and would never raise our voices in anger, only in laughter. I feel more mature, so much more better. Last night, I started looking through picture albums that my step-mom has for an art project I had to do, and while I looked through them, I wanted to cry. There were pictures of my sister and I in our Barbie princess and Princess Jasmine Halloween costumes, pictures of us at the car show in Moab, at the Blue Angels events, how we were such a happy family. Then I went to the next three picture albums and I wasn’t there. There were no pictures of me, because I didn’t want to go to my father’s house, because I listened to my mother and how she told me for all those years what a terrible and horrible father he was, how he never wanted me, and IÂ Â believed her. I cried when I realized how much I missedÂ my life with my father and my step-mom, how I had hurt them, yet they waited for me to grow up and open my eyes. I love my family for that; for waiting for me.
I’m going to tell you all a secret, maybe multiple, but it always helps to talk to friends. I am scared, I am frightened about going back to my mother’s house on December 1st. I have become a person that I know my mother would hate, because it reminds her so much of my father, and she’ll expect me to go back to the person I was; the little Bug of hers, the cutter, the depressed and lost puppy dog that will always follow her around, but thing is I actually like this me, I actually and finally feel like me. And with this whole baby thing, I’m scared that she’ll try to guilt trip me, try to take control over me again. No matter how much I love Death, no matter how much cutting is my greatest and srongest high, I can’t go back to it, not anytime soon, because I am so close to something. My beautiful nightmares have caught up with me again, laughing and taunting me with my fears. What do I do now? That is my question to my dear friends. What do I do now?
In 2002, I was in 8th grade, and that was the first time I started thinking about killing myself. It’s also when I started hurting myself. Things got a little better in high school, so I was just self mutilating day-to-day. Then as a senior in December of 2006 I ate a shit ton of aspirin, and ended up in the hospital after my first real suicide attempt. My favorite part was when I got home and my step mom asked me if I was ‘stupid or something’, because ‘everyone knows’ that aspirin is a blood thinner and actually makes you more jittery and awake, so the whole ‘falling asleep’ sort of death didn’t work out. That was nice. Trying to die, then coming home to being called an idiot.
That turned me off for awhile, on account of the fact that I didn’t like being called an idiot, or failing. I don’t know how much that experience matters to where I am right now, in this moment. Maybe I just needed to be reminded about how humiliating it is to come home after a failed suicide attempt. Maybe it will be different now, I don’t know.
So since then, the idea has come and gone, that maybe suicide would be awesome. I feel so silly thinking about it, but isn’t that part of it? The fact that I live in a society where if a 23-year-old says they’re thinking of killing themselves, instead of a hug or talking about it, they’re called a ***** and laughed at, never taken seriously for just wanting to talk for ONCE about something besides someone else.
So in the last six months it’s been on my mind again. REALLY been on my mind. To a point where I told my boyfriend, who just said I’d ‘be fine’, and then changed the subject. Awesome job, everyone.
My life seems to be getting worse. At least when I was 17 I didn’t have to deal with the real world. Now, I have a shitty job. I just got out of a shitty job that turned me into a drunk and an angry person. I tried going to school, but I’ve already dropped a class. I can hear my step mom calling me stupid again. I can hear everyone calling me stupid. School isn’t for me, and it shouldn’t have to be. Things seem to be getting harder as I go through life, shouldn’t they be getting easier? Why stay alive when things are getting worse, more chaotic, more difficult…more…everything.
It’s hard to write about this. I’m anonymous right now, and I don’t have to read any bad comments from here. But I’m so used to being mocked for thinking about suicide. Maybe my life isn’t the worst, but I haven’t had it easy. Not like I’m going to re-tell that again here. You people don’t give a shit about my shitty childhood, and whatever else. You’re here to tell me to stay on topic, to only wanna die if I have a “REAL” reason, to stop wasting your time bitching about my shitty job. “We all have shitty jobs!” I can hear you saying “And we’re not thinking about killing ourselves, you *****!”
Well I’m not you. I feel differently, and think differently, and I have different weaknesses, different handicaps, and I refuse to be judged for it. I know millions of people have worked shitty jobs while going to school full time, cleaning up the house, making dinner, and blah blah blah. You think I’m whiny? Then don’t come to a fucking suicide webpage blog or whatever this is.
The point is….I feel alone. I feel alone, like no one else understands me or even wants to help me. I feel stupid for still mutilating myself. It’s been a decade. For nearly half my life, I’ve been a cutter and a suicide-enthusiast, and honestly? It’s not getting any better. People are less supportive than ever. People are more judgmental than ever. At least when I was 16 and angsty, I had other 16-year-old angsty friends who were going through what I’m going through. Now I just have people who tell me to shut up and deal with it.
I’m tired of “dealing” with it. I’m tired of thinking like this. I’m tired of the thoughts that plague me. I’m tired of hurting myself, and the judgmental population around me. I’m tired of my shitty job, AND I KNOW YOU ARE TOO. I’m tired of the idea of school. I’m tired of saying “I am SO tired…” tears welling up in my eyes, and one of my stupid friends saying something like “I knowwww! I’m totally having a Starbucks craving!” No, you don’t understand. I’m tired, and I’m tired of being tired. I just want it all to be over with. I want to stop thinking about money, and success, and whatever the fuck else. I was to stop being judged and I just want all this bullshit to stop.
Most of all, I want to end a decade of suicidal thoughts. I thought it would get better, but 10 years later, it’s only worse. What’s the point?
Emotional vent.. Sorry I just went on and on, and its pretty much scattered.
I’ve lived a fucked up life since I was young, my parent’s always fought and never got along. I once touched them both at the same time when I was 17.. When I was just 8 my dad met my step mom, the worst thing to ever happen to me. For the next 4 years I was abused excessively.. I was so young I didn’t know what to do, I was too afraid to admit what was happening. It sucked so badly for everyone around you, who cared, to know what was happening and nothing being done about it. It’s hard for a kid so young to do anything about it, to agree anything is happening that shouldnâ€™t be. I truly thought this was okay and a normal way of life, maybe my mom and everyone around me was wrong. Maybe I deserved what was happening to me. I was young enough to be scared of a girl, so anything that was happening now didnâ€™t affect my life. I take it out on myself sometimes, more badly just because it wasn’t a guy abusing or beating me, it was a woman. I feel weak. I was beat, starved, put to work and still I was not good enough.. I tried to work as hard as an 8-12 year old could, being harassed for a drop of milk on the counter. Watching your brother be beaten with a bag of frozen steaks for virtually nothing at all. Shedding blood was nothing new to me, as this was frequent. I found myself staring at the wall 50% of my time. I’d come home and instantly be in trouble for nothing at all; forced into standing in the corner and facing the blank opened walls of my room. Plenty of time for judging myself and assuming I deserved this. Sometimes I wonder why me? I didn’t deserve any of this did I? I don’t know how a woman could be so heartless. Now 20 years old I’m re-living how cruel woman can be.. I’ve been heartbroken at age 17, as my son was just born by the girl who took my virginity. I was treated like shit, like someone who was a whore should be treated. I was back to being hit and ignoring it, constantly being reminded of my past abuse. I’d feel pathetic for flinching when people raised their hands, let alone when they hit me. I don’t understand why I was put into such a shitty relationship; I did everything for this girl. I waited 17 years of my life before giving into a sexual relationship, not that it wasn’t possible I was just born into a family filled with extremely sexual people, and I resented it. I was constantly seeing people get cheated on and it just always hurt. I watched my mom constantly cheat and it just scared me. I knew it was a feeling Iâ€™d never want to experience firsthand. I waited 17 years for this girl, I thought she must be the one; after being brainwashed into giving her a kid I realized it wasn’t something I wanted, it was something I thought I wanted and realized it too late. I knew she was a horrible girl, I just didn’t know any better at the time. I thought girls actually cared if you weren’t a cheater or a whore, I really thought thatâ€™s all girls cared about, if you were genuine you’d be safe from heart ache.. Instead I got an extreme awakening. I left her for the last time in January as my son was 2 months old. Next thing I know the man I kept from being kicked out of my house (My step-dads brother) was seen at my baby mamaâ€™s house. I felt a strong betrayal, as this wasnâ€™t just my step-uncle; this was my roommate and more like my brother. He was 25 and she was 16, sheâ€™s just playing games I thought to myself, she wants to isolate me from all my friends as Iâ€™ve lost them all to being with her already. I knew it was just to get at me, she wanted to take away a brother to hurt me for leaving her finally. I never thought sheâ€™d end up marrying this guy less than a year later.. I never knew sheâ€™d take my son from me after being there for 11 months from day 1, with a job everyday while she sat on her ass and did nothing.. my family bought everything for my son, she took it all as it was her son and she thought it all belonged to her now. Itâ€™s been almost a year I havenâ€™t seen my son now, I blame myself completely, I was 17 though, how was I supposed to deal with this? The thing that meant most to me was taken away from me. I felt sick in my heart, It was the most hated feeling Iâ€™ve ever endured and still endure. I just put all my time and devotion into a son for this long and it was ripped from me in 1 day. I let everything pile onto my shoulders, I assumed weâ€™d be back together and Iâ€™d see my son soon. The day never came, it just kept getting longer and longer between times I got to see my son. At first I didnâ€™t know my baby mama and step uncle were talking, I joked around about it to her, making accusations just to fight. To find out they got married disgusts me. How can anyone 9 years older than someone marry them? Not only that but someone at 16. It hurt me more, knowing there was a pedophile in the house with my son. Iâ€™ll never forgive myself for letting all the pain and responsibilities build on top of me and weigh me completely down until it seemed as if it was too late. I felt like I wanted to die, my own flesh and blood taken from me, because in Florida-law the mother has all rights to the baby unless their married. I finally got over her around 6 months later, but to this day still canâ€™t get over the son with her. Iâ€™m scared now to try and get custody as it would confuse him and I know he thinks my uncle is his dad. I just canâ€™t believe a girl who grew up with 1 parent out of the picture, who promised the world and more, could take away a parent from their own kid. She must get over it and let me one day see him. I thought. To this day I continue to hurt about my son. I constantly am depressed. I will never truly be happy without him. I finally found a girl of my dreams I thought, as of 3 months ago. She was amazing; I met her on 4th of July at the beach. She was so beautiful she looked like a Baywatch girl. I never saw such a beautiful girl in my life I thought. There just was something completely different about her. Shortly after I ran into her at a party I was having. I was struck with awe as how into the girl I was feeling. Iâ€™m a super shy person and I have extremely high walls built up which let nobody inside. Iâ€™m not at all an unattractive guy and Iâ€™m grateful for this, as I was a chubby kid in high school and changed that by myself, with my amazing genes. I have a problem throwing all the girls I meet into the friend zone, and all my girl â€œFriendsâ€ end up falling in-love with me basically and I have no control of that. Iâ€™m just very picky when it comes to anyone Iâ€™d consider being with. I have a kid to account for in the future. So I need someone I could see around my son, and someone up to my expectations still. I hate girls who put themselves out there; I canâ€™t stand girls who are always having sex with people. I hate sluts/whores basically. I have this strong feeling against them. I guess I donâ€™t hate them as lots of my friends are like this, I just despise of them. I personally never saw myself being with them intentionally. Iâ€™d easily be with some of them because of looks alone, but Iâ€™m not that type of guy. I get to know girls first and Iâ€™m good at judging the way people are. I guess the first girl I was with was like this, she was with 10 guys at age 15 when I met her. To me it didnâ€™t seem high as I was a virgin and used to my brother being with at least a hundred girls.. Then realizing it was a high number it ruined my relationship, I hated knowing I saved myself for some girl who just gave herself to 10 other people. It truly disgusted me. Anyways back to the girl of my dreams.. She had something different about her; she seemed older, more of my age and maturity. I later find out sheâ€™s only 18 and just drinks at bars because she is a female and guys let them get away with everything due to tits. It saddens me the way guys treat and look at girls, itâ€™s all like their hungry looking at a piece of meat. Iâ€™m so proud of myself for not being the 99% of people who would cheat, or treat a girl better because sheâ€™s a girl. I never buy girls drinks and such as it annoys me they should get everything for free and we men should pay for it. Yet women want equality; and were expected to buy everything for them. Donâ€™t get me wrong I love to buy stuff for girls. Iâ€™ll spend a grand on a girl just because of love and Iâ€™ll feel a kind of â€œHighâ€ just for spending my money on someone else. It makes me feel so good to give someone a gift, as I wasnâ€™t given hardly anything while living with my step-mom. I know what itâ€™s like not receiving gifts and I know what itâ€™s like to receive them. Sorry if my mind is scatter brained as Iâ€™ve been up for 2 days now and canâ€™t find myself to sleep due to depression. Iâ€™m trying to give a general back story to my life. Hopefully it isnâ€™t too confusing and you get the majority of how my life was set up for failure. Anyways this girl of my dreams and me hangout and end up making out one night. That day I knew something was different about her and I knew I found the one. I was currently depressed and resulting into self medicated treatment, on pain killers mostly. I went down a bad path for over a year due to the stress my baby mama caused. She truly wanted my life ruined and somehow I let her accomplished it. I put all this past me as I finally found a reason to be happy. I quit drugs completely for this girl within 2 weeks of knowing her. Iâ€™m not just talking about getting fucked up once in awhile, I was addicted to the little blue pill known as roxies. Basically heroine in a pill, like oxyâ€™s. Iâ€™d do about 100$ a day at the time, roughly 2 at a time, twice a day. It definitely helped the pain and suffering I had, but I find out later (OBVIOUSLY) it just ruined my life more. I went the next 2 weeks completely crazy as Iâ€™m withdrawing off multiple drugs, and just went on a 3 month binge of Molly (MDMA-ecstasy) every other night. I literally lost my mind and I couldnâ€™t believe this girl would put up with this. I also got jumped in an attempt to be robbed 3 grand by my own buddies and my ear drum was ripped. So I was half deaf, mumbled like crazy and was insane. This girl put up with this till I was normal again and we were never happier. Iâ€™ve only been happier one time in my life at this point; when my son was born. I thought we were golden, turns out were far from it. We start to argue, mostly me at first, Iâ€™d get jealous as she was a very attractive girl (I mean this as in I couldnâ€™t go to the bar or club without people stopping me and saying wow man good job). I let this eat me up.. All her â€œFriendsâ€ wanted to fuck her; she would tell me theyâ€™ve been down that road already, and its fine nothing will happen. It was just annoying to see a girl think she had guys figured out when all her so called friends were just there trying to get some *****. It drove me partially into a dick. Iâ€™ve always been that sweet caring person, and for once I was a straight dick to this girl. I think it was mostly due to being hurt so bad by my ex, and just knowing it would happen again. Although I actually trusted this girl, I would still constantly jokingly accuse her and what not. I finally realized this and started to work on fixing it. It was working I thought, then out of nowhere we started fighting in front of people. We never fought alone, as we were 2 peas in a pod. We got along perfectly and it was the relationship youâ€™d see them perfect married couple who youâ€™d just wish was you. I didnâ€™t get why this was happening. I just wanted us to stop fighting in front of her friends. Iâ€™d defend her and make her look like an angel to my friends. And she said she did the same; turns out now that we split up, I find out she has been making me look like an asshole to everyone. She said she does nothing but defend me to her friends, and I find out their just listening to her rant about me. Do girls need this much drama in their life I thought? Is TV taking a hold onto girls now and making them this immature? We finally split up after fighting and fighting, she thought she could be pregnant, and from the day we split up she partied every night but one night. Sheâ€™s been drinking and trying to find uppers to partyâ€¦ It really sucks to have a kid taken away from you, and to watch someone attempt to take away something that isnâ€™t even born yet. Itâ€™s not like we know sheâ€™s pregnant, itâ€™s that she is making me believe she is then goes and does this stuff. Itâ€™s so heart braking to see someone who tells you she lost a kid already and still is partying, just to get revenge and/or a rise out of me. To make me jealous how can one attempt to have a miscarriage? I thought these kinds of people didnâ€™t exist, especially not the one I was in love with. Is this really strike 2? I waited a year and a half for this girl since my baby mama, I went a year without sex and gave into this girl. Once again I feel like sex ruined everything, once people get what they canâ€™t have they just donâ€™t care. I donâ€™t know how I can cry my eyes out for hours on end every night for someone. Let alone have someone listen to it and not feel sympathy.. Did I mention both of my Ex’s were molested by their brothers while they were younger? Is this some type of coincidence or is this just how girls cry for attention? It disgusts me to think how someone could molest their own sister.. Idk why i’m forced to resent both of their brothers for the rest of my life, to hate them, and to live with knowing what happened to these girls, and nothing was done about it. Especially as the girl of my dreams has told nobody but me about this, I honestly think she needs help, I think this is one of the reasons she seems so heartless. She blames herself but she cried in my arms for hours as I told her its not her fault, she didnt know better.. Ect ect. She was 13 when this happened, her brother would have been 17. Can girls really screw with my head this bad, am I falling for this act?
Iâ€™m stuck back home, with a stepdad who hates me (I canâ€™t stand him either, young prick) and a mother who is disappointed in her â€œBetterâ€ son. I’m sick of being a disappointment to everyone around me. I just wanted to be happy for once. I just wanted life to be easy, and everything to be over with. I’m wondering why I even took the time to write that.. Sympathy I guess, if you can’t get it in life maybe you’ll get it online.. I’ve attempted suicide multiple times in the last year and a half, mostly drug overdoses. Sadly my tolerance wouldn’t allow me to go. I’m too much of a ***** to go in the next room over grab a gun and shoot myself out of this world.. I wish it was easy to just give up. I wish I could just close my eyes and not wake up anymore, with no more pain.. I wish my son didn’t have such a screwed up father. I wish I could protect him when laws forbid me to. Life’s a ***** and I’m just sick of being dealt bad cards..
well…i guess i can say it started when i was only a few years old….my parents were both drug addicts…i was in the bars with my mom and dad till my dad met my step mom when i was almost 4…for me it was normal….but then again so was buying my own food at the store, stealing money from my mom while she slept of the drugs andÂ alcohol for the food, being used asÂ collateralÂ when she didnt have drug money, and being molested by her many boyfriends. then id go home to my dads, he and my mom worked alot…and did drugs so they werent always there…but my older step brother was…he molested me from the time i was 4 till i was almost 8…i didnt know that it was bad then, and no one saw any warning signs and if they did…they did nothing…i evenÂ beganÂ harming myself, ripping out my hair, using staplers to staple my arms and legs, anything i could think of starting at the age of 5 …when my dad got arrested my step mom got custody of me and moved me and my baby step sister out of the state…and i forgot all about everything…till i turned 14 then i started to have night terrors and by the time i hit 15 i was an insomniac and cutting daily, i cut daily for 3 years…that was also the time my step mom started to get violent and wouldÂ physically,Â verballyÂ andÂ emotionallyÂ abuse me, and one day she started in on me because i back mouthed her…i ended up with several new bruises and new emotional scars,Â that night i went and cut 2 majorÂ veinsÂ in my arm, if my dad hadnt walked in on accident i would have bleed out…after that theyÂ triedÂ to help me until i told them about my step brother she freaked out on me calling me a lier and that her son would never do anything like that…her same son who pulled a knife on me and molested me…ive gotten some help…and i still cut…only not as much….i still haveÂ hundredsÂ of scars on my body and they keep gaining more and maybe one day ill be able to handle life without but…for now i keep cutting….
So I pretty much have become tired of living my life. I feel
like a waste of space most of the time. After my Mom died and my Dad married my
step mom my life has changed drastically. Itâ€™s not that I donâ€™t like my Dad; he
just doesnâ€™t know how to deal with things himself. For example he goes out to
drink a lot and acts younger than his 17 year old daughter does. If heâ€™s not
out heâ€™s at work or in his room which leaves me with no choice but to sit in my
room all day. I have quite a few friends but only two close ones, but theyâ€™re
always busy it seems so I basically have no life. I feel like I have no one to
talk to. Even though my friends say theyâ€™re there for me, I rarely tell them
anything because I feel like they wouldnâ€™t want to waste their time listening
to my stupid problems. So instead I just bottle everything up. But, that doesnâ€™t
work forever. Iâ€™ve had suicidal thoughts for awhile, but I know Iâ€™ll never kill
myself because my future will hopefully be 10xs better. But, until then it
sucks being alone trying to keep my mind away from all the hate I have towards myself,
which doesnâ€™t really work out. Iâ€™m beginning to really hate myself and I donâ€™t want
to but I feel like such a loser and a fuck up. Everyone always talks about all the things
they do, but I just stay in my room waiting for one of my friends to not be
busy and text me to do something. I really wish I could just go to sleep and
disappear for awhile. I just wish there was someone that I could talk to. Well
this concludes my rant for now.
This is first time I have ever posted on web about suicide, this is actually pretty cool. I will not go into all my problems, just to the point where as so many other times in my life, I question why am I living? I have lost really great jobs, decent marraige, etc. and now I feel alone. I also like many others here have seen countless therapists, doctors, been diagnosed with two different things by several doctors, bottom line – I am miserable, I hate where my life is, unfortunately I do not have the balls to commit suicide. I prayed even today several times, asking God why not just me, but so many others must suffer in life. I know suicide in a permanent solution to a temporary problem, my step-mom killed herself. I have tried 2 or 3 times in my life, finally realize I do want to die, but in reality I just want to escape the pain. My opinion only, if you have a mental-illness, no insurance, it is nearly impossible to attempt to get help. I finally realize now that I can no longer work due to my mental illness, but the way the system is setup, I will have to live in shelters or half-way houses for 2 years while I attempt to get disability, I worked 25 years and put alot into SS, again bottom line, I am miserable todaqy, I feel abandoned by my friends (none really), family, just about everyone. So, this is the pain I speak of, I cannot drink alcohol or take drugs, as I am in recovery (but I am talking about suicide??) – I know it is all crazy, I just want the pain to stop. Another week and half to attempt to get rent paid, if not then I will be on the streets, and that’s whyÂ I feel so trapped. Why, why do people have to suffer so much in life, I know others endure much more than me, but I am at a breaking point, If I had the balls, I would jump from a bridge, or jump into a river, but I cannot do it. Please give me ideas on how to cope?? thanks
I can’t actually remember how it started. I’m not sure if I can even call it depression. Most of my life I have been surrounded by control. I have been from place to place. My parents had me at 14 so things were crazy growing. I barely ever saw them. Now I live with my father because I have a mother who is going through problems I don’t like to talk about.
I let myself be controlled, and even if i want to, I cant stand up for myself. I’m 17, and in school I just some weird lesbian (I’m not lesbian but people think I am). I never have anything to say to them, I just to act like its funny and crack a smile.
My dad and step mom are a different story, they ask me, “why don’t you hangout with those people?” or “Why do you choose to have bad friends that smoke and get bad grades?” I can’t help it. Those are the people that will talk to me and not make me feel like crap. I just moved from the city last year and making friends is hard in a small town where everyone knew each other since 1st grade. My parents won’t take me to hangout with people and I don’t have a car. I live miles away from everyone. I’m stuck in the house everyday.
It started from being sad to having headaches and sleeping because i was always so tired and now not even a bottle of aspirins helps. I feel like I cant do it anymore. I’m scared to tell someone. I don’t want people to pity me. I want them to understand. I don’t know how to make this feeling go away. I hate it. :/
I just wanted to get that out.
“Step one you say we need to talk,
he walks, you say sit down it’s just a talk,
He smiles politely back at you,
You stare politely right on through”
If only they would listen…
If only I could go back in time, to that night. Cherry. She jumped off the roof of a hospital. She drank until she found courage to swallow those pills. Called the cops on herself. That is what amazes me the most. Why had she called the cops? Why? If she was just going to go and jump off that building? I just want to go back in time, know the reason my aunt killed herself. Never did give a reason. It shocked me so much… Always smiling, laughing, making jokes… Now that I look back on it, that is exactly what I do… Laugh it off. Now that I finally figured out my problems, my best friend wants to kill himself. He says he wont. Cherry never said anything to me… But she told the doctors she was fine. Told my step mom she wasn’t depressed. I look back at what happened, and I want to hate the doctors who didn’t keep her longer, weren’t there to make sure she didn’t keep trying to kill herself… She should have been on suicide watch. But somehow she got to that roof top and jumped. I just don’t want this to be another Cherry.
I’m a christian. I love God with all my being, but i always wonder to myself why I’m here. My life is a miserable wreck. I’m fat and ugly. I’m not “popular”. I have almost no friends.Â My family is way messed up. My Dad doesn’t give a crap about me and my step mom is a snobby psycho. My sister is moved in with us for reasons I have no right to explain. My sisters daughter is everything I’m not and makes me feel jealous everyday, my little brother is a major douche bag and is probably going to end up caught up in drugs or something stupid, I have OCD, and I have an anxiety disorder. My life story has been very complicated. When my birth mom had me she was 21 and my dad was 42. Lovely right. He’s had more than one wife. I was taken away form my mom when I was about 5 because she became sick and couldn’t take care of herself much less two children. I love my mom though. I lived with my Dad, brother, and Grandma in a small trailer.Â When I was about 8 my dad remarried to my step mom. She drives me insane. All she does is complain and judge. My family are hoarders. Because of my OCD it makes me extremely uncomfortable. I was never happy with my life.Â Everything crashed this year when my step mom abused me really badly. I went to the police and they filed a report and the DCFS guy talked to my parents. Then he talked to me basically having his side picked already. The only thing he did was make me stay with my big brother for two weeks. During that time I had a church trip that i went to. My best friend in the entire world goes to the same church as me so she went too. This trip was suppose to make me feel better and grow closer to God and my best friend. It did the exact opposite. My best friend and I became not friends anymore. Because of the fact that she dumped me at a time I needed her most, I got an anxiety disorder. I had always had the heart pains that came with the disorder but I never really paid attention to the disorder until the heart pains started happening almost everyday. Ever since this incident everything has been crappy. I feel alone and empty. I feel like I have no purpose on this Earth. I feel like I’m dieing inside slowly. I can’t help but want the pain to end. I think about it almost everyday now. I’ve even written letters to the people who I want to know why I did it, just in case. I don’t know what to do anymore. God is the only one I have now. It may sound like my life seems fine to some people, but to me it’s killing me.
Okay, so when i was three years old, my parents got divorced. I was fine with it, and everything was okay. Untill my dad got remarried…
My step mom has been a b*tch to me basically my whole life. It was kinda like the Cinderella story.. but for a few years (when i was about 7-12) everything was okay. But now im almost 14,. & the past 8 1/2 months or so have been shit.
Its not all because of my dads family. Some of it was me making stupid decisions. I know this may sound ridiculous because im only 14, but ive had to deal with a boy who treated me like shit too.
Here the story on that; about april of last year me and my friend went on a walk to this kid josh’s house. Me and him liked eachother and sort of had a little summer romance. But when school started it all changed. We went to diffrent schools and according to my friend he had been cheating/flirting with other girls. But i was convinced that he loved me. So we dated off and on for about 5 months. But he would always blame me for breaking up, and make me feel like shit. So we broke it off for about a month. Then in december we hung out again, and we had sex. Its was ok to me, becuase i was convinced he loved me and i lived him. But it wasnt that way at all. About a week later he told me the only reason we did it was to make my friend jealous. I cut him out of my life for awhile, but he still keeps trying to get me back. Hes a player…
Also, in january, i decided to go live with my mom. I decided since i was about to go to high school, that it would be alot easier to live with her and spend time with ny dad every other weekend than to be going back and forth every 2 days or so. Also i was just sick of my step moms bull sh*t. When my dad got the paper work he was PISSED. and ever since then hes been belittling me.
I had already been deppressed because of the thing wih my ex. But then when your parents tell you they hate you and dont care what you want, it makes you hurt even more. Ive cut several times, and i personally think it helps.
but now, im really thinking about just ending it all. Ive lost so many people that ive loved in the past year that i just cant deal with it anymore. Then last night my step mon was blaming me for my parents divorce. She told me i was worthless and didnt deserve to live. and im starting to believe it…
I dont know where to begin. I was an only child of divorced parents. Both of them remarried when I was 5. My dad and step mom brought Â my wonderful brother in this world when I was 7. I was young then so i really didnt see where the attention was going. But as the years came and went and i was around 13 thats when I started cutting myself, in middle school. 8th grade to be exact. I used to lie about it and say that I cut myself on a bush or some bull shit like that. I used anything I could, broken glass, metal objects, tree branches anything that was sharp where I at least can draw a little bit of blood. Once highschool came around I really didnt talk to anyone. I had a few friends but wasnt part of the “IN” crowd. Â My friends at the time cut as well. In 9th grade I had thought about taking my life may times but never did. I just didnt want to go on. I no its selfish but I didnt give a shit. My brother had all of the attention, but he didnt know better. Another thing to add to my thoughts were bc of my weight. Im not fat but im not skinny either. I didnt date anyone until 11th grade. I was a loner, I wasnt the blond bombshell that all the guys liked. No one really paid attention to me, no one really liked me. I felt like i was just a waste of space, time and money. I always felt like i was a burden on my parents. I used to tell myself that they only say I Love You bc thier my parents. I felt like they said I was pretty/beautiful only to make me happy. I just wasted their time. I knew I should’ve of just taken my life. No one understands why i feel this way. My parents say i did all of this for attention, what attention know one cares about me, so what attention am i getting. My problems seem to really start after highschool. In 2006 I started dating Alex, I loved him but i know he just wanted sex outta me but i didnt care. Someone was actually telling me that they love me without being family. We were on and off for over a year. Then I started dating this guy Jerry, i was so “inlove” or so i thought. We started dating September 28th 2007 and i ended it in June of 2009. During the first part of the relationship everything was amazing. things started to change about a year and a half into the relationship. I started toÂ receiveÂ beatings from him when we would fight. LeftÂ bruisesÂ on me and I would lie and say it was fro work. That’s when I started to cut more often. I was getting the useless feeling back. He drove me to the point where him and i were fighting and i cut myself in the bathroom and walked out and smeared the blood all over him and said “you happy now?”. I ended things with Jerry Â bc i couldnt take the abuse, and I fell “inlove” with my best friend Chris. Jerry was the clingy type. I cheated on him with Chris bc he wouldnt let me break up with him. Anyways. Chris is where my suicide attempts come in. I was given Xnax for anxiety, and that became my bestfriend. Chris was a Heroin addict and I started doing Xnax more and more. My meds were not working for me. I started to go to counciling and my problems were just worse and worse. I wrote in a juornal all the time saying how much i hated my life. Know one knew how bad it really was, they just thought oh she has depression like her mother. they used to ask me whats so hard in life that makes you depressed? the only answer i had was life. Then they would just say “You havnt even been through life to know what it does” or whatever they would say. I cut all over my body. my arms are covered in cuts, mostly the left arm, which is now being covered up with tattoos. Hips, lower stomach, legs, top of arms. I didnt care. Like a drug addict I had a rush when i would cut. I loved seeing my own blood going down my arm. Anyways, as Chris and I dated, the drug amount started going up. I was taking so much Xnax, my head wasnt on straight. I went to a Physc ward in August 2009, didnt do much help. When I got out still did drugs and my depression was in overdrive. I was working for my grandpa at the time and i went into work on monday and he basically fired me. I stole 24K gold, I dont remember doing it but i Â guess i did. After that i went home wrote my suicide note, cut my arms to hell, smeared the blood on the paper, texted my friend and told her i was leaving for good this time. I tried calling Chris but his dad wouldnt let me talk to him. I went to the garage grabbed the ladder and the chain and i couldnt do it, i laid on the garage floor with blood all over me until Taylor showed up. she rushed me to the hospital where they admitted me. she called my family. My dad and uncle came up there, my mom to. My granny and pa rushed down here from outta town. I ended up in the mental ward for 6 days, where they took me off of my bestfriend, xnax. While i was there i just kept asking myself “why, why me, why am i the peice of shit, why am i the burden to everyone, why, why didnt i go through with it, i would of been much happier outta this fucked up world”. I’m 2 1/2 years clean now, somewhat stable. Engaged to my wonderful fiance. To this day I still think about cutting, just the littlest things set my off and i want that stress relief. I still feel as if im still that burden child, no one to this day seems to understand why i did what i did. my depression is sneaking back up on me but im trying to keep that maintained. There still are days where I just wanna end it all. the only thing holding me back is my fiance.. but thats my fucked up story
Well I have tried killing myself. I’ve slit my wrists, arms, legs, stomach, fingertips. I don’t want an identity. I have burned off my fingerprints but they grew back, no matter how many times I burned them off.
I don’t consider myself human.
I’m an alien.
I’m a redhead that lives in a small town full ofÂ Mexicans. I don’t hate them, I love my friends. But I’m an alien. I’m from mars and other people like me (gingers) are the reason why mars is red. I had to learn to make fun of myself at a very young age in order to live in this hellhole-of-a-town.
I’ve held a gun up to my head. But anyone can do that, it’s easy.
But I’ve done something you never have. I pulled the trigger.
I know you’re thinking “Wtf, how is she alive.” But I’m not, I’m dead inside. I am physically alive though. The bullet jammed in the barrel of the gun right after I pulled the trigger. Strange right? How often does that happen. And it scared me, it took at least an hour for me to realize I’m not dead and what even happened. Right after the ringing in my ears stopped I cried, I curled up in a ball on my bed a cried myself to sleep. After waking up I grabbed the gun a put it back in the drawer where my mom kept it. I had to make sure she didn’t know what happened. I had a cut on the right side of my skull, at my temple, right where I held the gun.
The next few weeks all I could think about was why didn’t I die and if my life was worth ending. Well I knew my mother didn’t love me a couldn’t care less about me. Well she could because she’ll be missing another tax deduction. But you get my point.
My dad. My dad hated seeing me in pain. And I hated seeing the pain in his eyes. He didn’t want to accept the fact that his only daughter, his only child, cuts herself. He’s seen the razor blades before, he’s seen the scars, but he’s never touched my wrist, especially not after I cut myself. But one day I had been talking to my step mom about break ups, then my father, who was standing next to me, saw my hand and saw the heart I carved in it. He touched the newly carved cuts, he asked me why I did that and I answered “Because I felt like it.” and I had, but the pain I could see in his eyes made me want to die. my father never had a good life. Abuse, drugÂ addictÂ mother, homeless for half his life. All I ever wanted was to make it rich and give my dad the life he wanted.
My step mom always told me to write and paint. I love it. I couldn’t imagine my life without art, music, and writing. I’m currently working on a novel, 162 pages so far. It’s a horror story. And in it I get to kill all the people I’m not allowed to in real life. “There are only two types of killers:Â PsychopathsÂ and mystery writers.” I am both kinds of people. I’ve always wanted to be one. And if anything ever happens to anyone I’m close to I swear I will become a serial killer and I’ll start by killing whoever hurt them. But I’ll have to be secretive. That should beÂ easyÂ since I’ve lived my entire life (17 years) invisible. So if you ever see some infamous serial killer that kills bad people that would be me.
I didn’t like my step dad and I don’t think he liked me. It doesn’t matter anyways since he left my family for a motorcycle gang, Devils Diciples. For almost a year he had caused so much anger and frustration in my household!! I hated him for it. I wanted to punch him and continue until he was dead. How dare he do that to my mother!! What did he do? He choked her ‘attacking him’ when she was just trying to talk to him. I grew tired of waking up at 3 am to glass bottles being broken and thrown at each other. I didn’t care about the fighting, I worried for my younger brother (11 yrs old). I was used to the fighting, they were always like this. But the thing I hated was that they fought in front of us. I’ve almost called the cops on themÂ multipleÂ times, thinking back, I should have called.
My brother doesn’t understand everything he see’s. But I know he has more pain than people would like to realize. I know the divorce of his parents is going to kill him. Though sometimes I want to strangle him because he’s being so stupid I couldn’t imagine my life without him. It would be boring and lonely since my mother doesn’t like to come home.
My step brother. I hate that bastard. I hope he dies slowly. Seems like getting hit by a car twice and getting in a car accident isn’t enough. For some reason he just won’t die. He would torment me when we were kids. he would hit me for no reason, but that’s when I got strong. I’ve always been the strongest of all the girls I’ve known. And I love that, I’ve always been stronger and I love putting a guy in his place by beating him at any physical challenge. But ever since that day, that horrible day in June, I wanted to kill him. I would wake up in the middle of the night with my step brother trying to quietly pull my blanket off of me without waking me up. That’s when I learned to be a light sleeper. One night heÂ succeeded. I hate myself for that night. After that I began sleeping in my parents room. But I never told them, I tried but they didn’t believe me. And whenever they left us alone I just stayed outside with my dogs, no matter how cold it was. I figured if someone drove by they would see and stop him so I just stayed outside until I saw the headlights of my parents car roll up.
I began cutting myself again. I knew my parents would get mad at me for having my razor blades again so I carried paper, I mean could they really get you in trouble for having paper cuts. But that soon ended because there’s nothing gratifying in that except Â pain in your legs as you try to walk. I began drinking again and I finally tried weed, I liked it. I wish I could smoke it whenever I wanted and just listen to music, I just want to escape.
My girlfriend. Well ex girlfriend I should say. I cared for her, and I still do. Â We did everything together. We had to fight for our love, her mother loved me until she realized we were more than just friends. She thought I was some evil thing that was brainwashing her daughter. My mother hated her because she thought she was brainwashing me. Really? What’s with the theme of brainwashing?! I never understood what was so bad. Just because we are two girls?Â We fought periodically but every couple does. We lasted for one year and three months. After she broke up with me everyone started telling me how much they hated her. I’ve defended her so many times. That’s why I stuck around so long, to protect her. Everything I did was to keep her happy. But she doesn’t need me, and I don’t need her. I wanted to kill myself after being so stupid and wasting so much time.
I don’t know. I guess there’s my story, it isn’t close to being finished but yea. I know it’s wordy but I’m a writer, can you tell?
I’m 15 years old. My parents are divorced and have been since i was 2. My dad cheated on my mom with my now step mom. My mom remarried when i was 14. Ever since i was about 5 and started gymnastics, my step mom didn’t like me. She never actually told me that, but she hit me over and over so i could tell. She’s hit me with her fist, a book, a chair, and a belt.She has even threatened to stab me withÂ a knife.
My stepdad sexually abused me multiple times around age 8. The nights i stayed at my moms house and was there all the next day, he would come home for lunch and touch me. I didn’t have a clue what was happening because i was little. I thought it was okay for family to touch you there.
My parents and the rest of my family didn’t believe me when i tried to tell them about my step mom, and later step dad. They all said I needed to stop lieing. Thats when i started to cut. I have scars on my wrists that i say are from pony tails and on my arm which i say are from my dogs. When that wasn’t working i went into the cabinent that held all medicine. I took everything that was in there. I was rushed to the hospital and they pumped my stomach. I now sleep with a knife under my pillow in case one night i feel the urge to just end everything, end the nightmares i cant get rid of, leave all the memories behind. I still cant bring myself to do it.
Well it’s been an interesting time in my life. I’ve spent almost 2 months of it in a mental hospital separated with a girlfriend of almost 3 years, mother of my third son who will be 2 tomorrow. Â Started a relationship with another woman who I have to say, I love dearly. Â I just don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I can’t bring myself to live a ‘normal’ life where I am a responsible adult and 9-5 and family one weekends. I left out in disability in December of last year about 3 months after FINALLY seeing a psychiatrist and being diagnosed with Bipolar disorder. It was my youngst’s mother that basically forced me to do something about my mood swings and random personality changes, things I just delt with for as long as I could remember.
My family doc started me on citalopram and the psych moved me to Zoloft and lamatical. Things never felt any better and I began to feel progressively worse about things because I TOOK that step, I got help, just like all the directions tell you to. Â I’ve had more then enough stress too throw on top of all that as well… I lost my car to repo because of the price of everything skyrocketing, next I barley made enough to feed my son, keep a roof over his head and pay the support for my other 2 boys. I lost our apartment, which was a fucking hole in the wall disaster anyway but it was HOME. Never could get anywhere with the landlord because he was my brother and he too wanted the money to pay HIS bills. I had to suck it up and move back home with my step-mom. First time in 28 years I actually asked for help from my parents.
I never wanted anything from anyone. I always thought I was raised to be self sufficient. If I couldn’t achieve Â for myself, I was a failure and that was of course not an option. I asked for a place to stay. I didn’t want it to be more then 3 months at first, but; all the plans for a new apartment fell through and I had no other options. Â Once everything finally hit me I was as low as I could be. I was that failure. Things began to suffer at work and I was placed on disability to save my job.
Now I had nothing. My son went to school with his mother and I took to sleeping 20 hours a day and waking like I needed a good long nap. We started to send my boy to school part time to try and save us some money in daycare expenses and to give me more time with him. It was even more of a disaster. I could barley stay awake with him most of the time. Most of the time I could only dwell on when was he going to take his nap so I could get more sleep and when was his mother going to get home to take over.
My step-mom basically became annoyed that I was so lazy. It was very clear to her I was just abusing her and something must be done. Â One day when my son was at school I woke with the feeling that I didn’t want to be alone. VERY VERY out of character for me. She took that as a ‘cry for help’. Call your doctor and ask if they might prescribe you something to help you with your anxiety. I thought it was pointless but, because she asked, I did. Â My family doc said I should just go to the ER and let them deal with it so I passed that info to her. “Get your shoes,” she said, “I’m taking you to the hospital.” What bullshit.
We got there and I didn’t even know what to tell them why I was there. “He’s very depressed and needs psychiatric attention,” says my mom. Let me tell you, I never got into a room and seen so fast. Of first note I had started self injuring, burning my left arm with cigarettes. That was an obvious red flag for hospital staff. I never knew how many doctors the hospital had in the ER until the 5, yeah, 5 came in to each check my burns for infection and other signs of physical injuries. Then came the social worker. After that twenty minute interview she brought my mom back into the room.
“So where would you like to go?” “What?”, I said. “Well, in your current condition, the hospital feels it would be best if you got some treatment for your depression.” “Oh! I’m fucking crazy and you are telling me that if I don’t ‘allow’ you to find me help, you’re going to ‘get’ me help. Is that what you’re saying?” “Not like that but…” I didn’t even bother to listen to the rest. I knew I was off to the nut hut. I was playing nice so at least they would try to put me where I wanted to go rather then any old place. So I chose the hospital I had heard of since I was a young child, it was the closest to home and WAY better then the state hospital.
Aside from burning with a cigarette, I had actually done a good job of quitting smoking at the time but I made my step-mom go and buy me smokes. I had no idea what to expect and I wasn’t going in totally unprepared.
Well again, two months, a total of 3 hospital stays later, I was out. Now my relationship with my son’s mother was strained beyond repair, my step-mom actually mailed a note to the both of us a day before I went in to the hospital the second time telling us we had used up her hospitality and it was time for some ‘tough love’ and we needed to go. Â I was still fighting with my insurance company to pay me some of my short term disability and now I’m being kicked out.
Fuck, I’m just rambling on.
right now, right fucking now I don’t know what to do. I need to see a doc but I can’t afford it because I never got the STD money, my ex got the money in the bank and used it for her and my son to get an apartment. I have been living with my new lady, and she has been very generous which is also killing me inside. I applied fior medical assistance, and found when I was forced to apply for food stamps that the application was ‘misfiled’ so nothing had happened with it in over a month. I got shit from my insurance company that they will not do anything about my long term disability because I need to have doctors fill out the paperwork, which again no money- no doctors. I applied for Social Security and again the doctor pitfall. Now the courts want my ass in jail because I haven’t been paying my child support. My God daughter’s birthday is next Sunday and I had to tell her father that I will be there if I haven’t been hauled off to jail. The court also needs me to see a doctor to fill out paperwork saying I’m disabled. It’s not enough I haven’t been working and have been playing the paperwork game. DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO FOCUS ON PAPERWORK!?! THIS IS WHY I WAS GETTING SHIT AT WORK, MY FOCUS WAS OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I haven’t been able to see any of my boys in over 6 weeks and I’m STILL FAILING AT EVERYTHING TO TRY AND CHANGE IT! Â OH and btw, because I still have private insurance through work, I was told that getting medical assistance is more then likely not going to happen.
Here is the final problem. I WANT to be dead and gone. My last wishes have all been well explained. There’s no need for a will because whatever money there is would go to pay off my debts. Â I’m a burden alive, and a burden dead. HA. My kids are all young enough that their mother’s could find a father figure for them and that would be ok. My girlfriend would be fucked up but she too would be able to move on and keep her focus on her life. Everyone wants to say 29 is young, good then they should all have plenty of time to move on. I don’t need to be here to fuck anything else up. If I were to die the boys would get social security and there would be one less crazy person burdening the system. I’m sure you American tax payers don’t want to take care of me.
Problem is, WHY CAN’T I JUST FUCKING DO IT!?! I’ve attempted it twice before, obvious failures. I tried to hang myself with my school neck tie, fucking thing ripped, and sleeping pills, just slept for 4 days.
I lost my driver’s license because I was just going to drive off the highway into trees and now I think I’d just walk a few blocks and play in traffic on the highway.
WHY CAN’T I JUST DO IT??? I want to go back to a hospital but I don’t everything is just fucked. FUCK. This was supposed to make me feel better, writing it all out but no. I’ve managed to burn myself again and just get more pissed. WHO WANTS TO HELP
Happy birthday Max. I love you and miss you soo much.