I’m not doing well tonight. Got in a fight with my boyfriend. It wasn’t a huge fight or anything but it just left me feeling so bad. We had a nice dinner planned. Well, he did. Then one little thing I didn’t do set him off and now he’s sleeping but he made himself something to eat. It’s absolutely stupid really. He was mad because didn’t have a beer for him when he got home from work. Nevermind the fact I was on my way back from the store when he happened to get home an hour early. No use explaining. I really didn’t feel like arguing because I know I haven’t done a damn thing wrong. Hell, all the dishes were done and the house was straightened up. He has his issues and I know I have mine too. It’s just disappointing when you have plans and the other persons mood swings get in the way. I know I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself and will make my own damn dinner eventually. I just feel sad I guess. I try so hard to help him and keep the house up and take care of myself too but this week I was really sick for close to two days and I’m not quite 100% yet but I’m trying. It’s not like I’m surprised by this behavior, just disappointed. It’s just got me in a funk.
I’m sorry to say that I’m here again, not that you people are bad people, but I only come here when things are getting overwhelming. I’ve been cutting again, a precursor to other self destructive behaviour; and this time it’s the nightmares. I’ve been trying to stop drinking, and it’s only causing me to wake up in the middle of the night screaming, or swinging. More so than usual, but usual had been passing out so drunk that I’m paralysed. I’m getting so tired of the new and inventive horrors my mind keeps in store to greet me in sleepy land. I just wish that I wouldn’t wake up. Period. Full stop. I’m tired of telling women that sleeping beside me carries a risk of being punched out if I wake up during a dream (yes I’ve done it before). I’ve been given clonazepam to stop it, but I’ve been saving them…. And taking 3 at a time so that I pass out and don’t dream…. Or at least don’t remember them…. I tell people I care about to have ‘sweet dreams’ because I never do…. So it’s late here….. And sweet dreams to all of you… And soon my pills will kick in, wish me luck for no dreams tonight.
I always want to remember how we would walk down that trail to look at the river and how we left school a couple times just to go there. I want to remember how one time you took me to the little store by your house through the woods, and how you would cancel plans just to be with me. I want to remember when we were laying under the blankets on your bed (which we would do often) and we would just lay there in each others arms under the blankets. I want to remember how you smell, how you had that certain cologne that I loved when we got together, and how sometimes you smelled like cigarettes and cologne. I want to remember how we always sat together at lunch and how we would run through the store in the morning so I could get fruit and we barely made it to school every time. I want to remember the mornings we just slept in my car because we didn’t make it to class on time and we didn’t want to get in trouble. I want to remember how I spent my first night with you, when I “went to Maddy’s”. I never want to forget how nervous you used to get when we had sex and how you always stop to see if I’m okay. You never let me forget that you love me. I was the one that ignored you and that’s why I thought you didn’t love me. I know that you love me, I was just being dumb. I will never forget how we always fight but get over it quickly. I always get over it because I can’t go without you. Throughout the time that we’ve been together you’ve been my therapy and you’ve helped me be a better me, I know I haven’t done much for you. I know I could’ve done better. I know how many times I said I would try and I never changed. I know that you don’t believe me when I say that I love you. I’m sorry that I don’t know how to show that I love you. I do know that you are all I’ve ever wanted and I don’t ever want to be without you. I love when I catch you looking at me, it makes me feel cared for. I love how you hold me, I love how you love me, and I love how you look at me, I don’t think I’d ever find anyone else that would look at me like they love me, the way that you do. I love you.
So maybe I am a loser. Maybe I am a fat disgusting thing. You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t planned for the best course of action? You think that I haven’t realized that all the “breaks” I get are just illusions or plain dumb luck?
I know what’s in store for me, so don’t feel like you have to remind me. I’m on my way. Just wait. I’ll be there eventually.
I just got done with a sinkful of dishes. There’s laundry on the bathroom floor. There’s laundry in the dryer waiting for me. There’s some clutter in every room. My problem is I’m so easily distracted it takes me forever to get anything done…gotta pick out music, find just the right song, oh, it’s raining outside? Gotta find a different song. That counters a little dirty, hmm what’s going on at SP. Yeah. So this is just me getting all the noise out of my head.
I’m making TACOS for dinner. Over here we like to use this fajita steak in place of ground beef. It’s sometimes a little fattier than I like but it’s so much better. The Mexican grocery store labels it as Taco meat, but in Spanish obviously.
Taco toppings suggestions?
Keep it clean.
I’ve always thought that there were two kinds of death–the simple physical death and the more difficult conceptual death.
Physical death is just that–your heart stops and your bodies functions cease completely, we all know what this is. It seems to me that physical death is typically the beginning of conceptual death and this is because the deceased person is no longer able to act as an agent that affects the physical world. The only reason that we’re ever able to become conceptual beings is because of the ways in which the world responds to us. The more we interact with it, the more it interacts with us and a conceptual relationship forms from that. For example, let’s look at a really pedestrian scenario: myself and a store clerk. I walk to the clerk’s store, I purchase something, I interact with the clerk, and that’s it. Even from that small interaction, the clerk has formed an idea of me that exists beyond my physical body. Even if it’s just as minute as our interaction, it’s still there. But because the relationship is so small and insignificant, I will soon fade from the clerk’s memory and cease to be in the mind of the clerk.
Now, let’s say that I visit the store more frequently and interact with the clerk and we form some kind of relationship. My conceptual existence in the clerk has become more cemented and will get even stronger the more I become relevant to the clerk’s life, like if I were to become his friend or if we did activities together outside of our patron-clerk interactions. Actually, even if my physical body were to perish without a trace, my conceptual self (which is arguably stronger since it can exist beyond death) would continue to live on, at the very least, within the clerk.
To conceptually die is much more difficult because the conceptual self is impossible to quantify and permanently erase. If we hark back to the example with the clerk–in which my physical body has died, but my conceptual self still exists within the clerk–conceptual death can only be achieved if the clerk: a) was the only person I was of any significance to and b) eventually dies (whenever and however that may be). But even then, let’s say the clerk dies some unfortunate death, as long as there are pictures or footage of me, I’ll continue to exist or have the opportunity to exist in the mind of whoever watches my photos or footage. In other words, as long as the idea of you persists significantly, your conceptual self will remain on this Earth.
While it’s true that I do want my physical body to perish, the act of physically dying only prevents the spread of my conceptual self, which doesn’t totally achieve my goal of conceptual death. This is because I’m not proud of who I am or the things I’ve done while living. While my conceptual death can’t undo these things, it will certainly erase them (there is a difference between undoing and erasing). However, because of attempts (more like mistakes) I’ve made to get close to certain people and the accidental influence I’ve had on others, it may be quite a while until I conceptually die, but perhaps if these people learn the true contents of my character, they will find me too unsavory to think of and I will lose my significance. I can’t say that this will happen for a long time, especially because I have immediate family members, but for everyone else, this seems like a probable scenario.
Just watched the documentary on the Golden Gate Bridge was a good documentary about suicide there was one story that stood out to me there was this one man who wanted to be a manager of a games store the day he committed suicide he got the call for the job he wanted it shows you never know what’s round the corner I hope things get better for all of us I hope soon the light will shine though the darkness I hope our path will be lit up so we can finally know where we are going
The way my life has turned out makes everyday a battle for me. It’s not one of those stories where I have a recognized disability and with effort I am overcoming it while people are proud. Technically I should be a fully functional human being.
I suffer from the most basic aspects of life. I can’t make simple decisions or do simple things. A trip to the grocery store is even something hard, which I avoid and end up screwing it up.
One could wonder how can you screw that up. I get confused and trapped by numbing thoughts and then I resort to negative self defeating trains of thoughts until I take too long to do something, at which point I analyze and mark it as further evidence that I can’t do simple stuff.
Just wish it could end, there is too much to fix and I’m sooo exhausted
About that time to enter the 7th circle of hell. As usual, the anticipation and dread is firmly setting in. I already know what’s in store.
It’s been a nice distraction writing Triple S, I hope it brings you all some iota of entertainment. Part 3 will have to be next week.
If anyone cares, or wonders, why I’m MIA, I’m banned from outside connections while battling the Hell Beast. Most likely I’m not dead.
See ya later,
Today as I was leaving the grocery store, a complete stranger said “Goodbye, (*my name*)!”
I nodded politely, and nicely said goodbye, realizing I had absolutely no clue who this person was. I still don’t know.
One of the drawbacks to living in a tiny town in a mostly rural county is that almost everybody seems to know everybody else.
Some people might find this comforting and cheery; I find it unsettling and creepy.
One thing I relished during my brief stays in larger cities was that absolutely nobody had any clue who I was. I was a wonderfully anonymous face in amongst the equally-nameless hordes.
It was glorious.
Here in my hometown it’s completely different.
A lot of people know “of” me, since my mother was well-known in the community before she retired. I grew up with all kinds of strangers recognizing me and wanting to talk to me because they recognized me as the daughter of someone they knew.
I remember the first time I bought condoms (at the age of 20), in what I thought was a discreet location a few miles away. Within 24 hours, someone in the community had “tattled” on me and my mother knew. I still don’t know who told her.
I learned how to have polite, respectful “small talk” with complete strangers who knew peculiar details about me that I had certainly never told them. It felt creepy as heck, but I did it anyway, because god forbid the news should trickle back to Mom that her daughter was a curiously non-green version of Oscar The Grouch.
Since I was the introverted hermit type, I didn’t see any need to learn people’s maiden names and their relatives’ names and where they lived and who their kids were and when they graduated and where they work and whether they’re lactose intolerant and whether they move to Florida for the winter and what species/age/gender/color their pets/livestock/grandchildren are.
I really enjoy just minding my own business.
But there really ARE people here who know everything about everyone.
Sometimes they’ll try to describe the location of something, and the conversation will go something like this:
Me: So where is the store that has that sale on Rice-A-Roni?
Them: Oh, I forget the name of it, but you know which one I mean. The one on that street that’s close to where Darly Fudgesicle-Dorfman lives. Or at least she used to before her alcoholic daughter moved in and kicked everyone else out. Frieda, I think her name was… or was it Brenda? You know. The one whose cat could flush a toilet and it scared her diabetic boyfriend senseless in the middle of the night because he thought burglars had broken in.
Me: He, uh… he thought burglars would break in to flush the…. Y’know what, never mind, I’ll just go to WalMart.
Them: Oh! If you go there, be sure to say hi to Argyle Beedleminer for me! I hope her goiter surgery went well. You know she’s been hitting the bottle pretty hard since her parakeet ran off with the next-door neighbor’s cockatiel.
Me: I’m walking away now.
I went into the store tonight and bought some sleeping pills. I’ve done this before. But tonight feels different. I want to do it. But I’m scared. But I don’t want to live anymore. You see, I was raised a Christian. Tonight, my mom found out that I like girls. Well, I’m a girl. I had to tell her due to the fact she found out I skipped work tonight.. So I was already in trouble for that….. She asked me why I skipped and I tried to explain with the usual there was drama at work, but she wouldn’t let that be all. Probably because it wasn’t. My ex works there and she has been talking to the girl I was talking to…. And now all I get are these terrible looks and I know they’re talking about me. So I skipped work. And here I am. I have the pills and am about to write a few letters to my friends and family. Can someone please just help me get the guts to do this? I can’t be here anymore and I just need someone to tell me it’s okay to do what I’m doing.
Morning: I was sad and scared of taking the exams. I was feeling pressured too. And little. So I ran away.
Traffic. The driver made us go. I got some money back and walked. While walking I thought of it as a punishment for running away. But rode another ride halfway. I’m a half ass lol.
I stopped at a convenience store to get a drink. And walked home.
I took out the stuffs I bought yesterday. One of them is the cards from cardcaptor sakura. It is said it can be used for divination too. So, I arranged it. Somehow, I got motivated to do something. Like cleaning my room. But I settle for drawing since I like drawing my feelings and impulses.
I got hungry and ate some apple. I got sad. I feel like throwing up. Now I think eating makes me sad…
Now I don’t want to eat.
I notice I start to get angry toughs whenever I have to go out, maybe it’s a reaction to prepare me to defend myself. Many times I give up leaving home, because I can’t handle people staring at me uncontrolably mad.
I tried to go anyway, everything happened as expected, couldn’t lift up my face to look at people. My eyes stuck the ground, I start sweating, and my face muscles become stiff, and i think, this never changes. Psychologists say you should keep insisting going out and facing your fears. But it never changes to me, it’s like the Murphy law “If something can go wrong it will”. I keep walking, on my way to the grocery store, and as usual the security guards stare as if I was a criminal, I go pickup my stuff ,always tense, whenever someone shows up in the section I pretend I’m reading the ingredients of a product just to calm me down, it doesn’t. I see another security guard inside the store,I avoid looking at him, to not get more attention, I don’t know if he is still looking because my eyes are almost blind for being so tense. I fear every security camera in the store, because I know someone in the security department is watching. And then the worst part, going to the cashier, where I have to really face someone and talk to her. Waiting on the line is hard. I try not to look at the manager that is prepared to rescue the cashier with any problems with clients, I look foward, and down, I can’t do more than that, and I see the security guards watching from the side of the eye. I can’t stop being tense and nervous.
Waiting is pain when you’re like this.
It’s my turn, I put my stuff on the counter, luckly the clients behind me don’t comment about my face nor how nervous I am. I give my card to the cashier, and the payment lasts a long time. I ask her “It’s not working?”, she just ignores me. I feel so embarassed, but I’m too nervous to realise it. I stare at the cashier, waiting, when I lift my face a bit, there is the police(the manager) looking right at me without blinking. My eyes fall down, and get more tension on my face and arms. I don’t know where more to look, the people in the line are still quiet, I don’t know how they’re looking at me because I’m too “busy”. She gives me the receipt and I walk away. It’s not over yet, I still have to face all that people on the way home.
Hello, this is my first times me and I’m glad I found you. I can relate to so many people here after reading their post.
its 2:22am and its one of those nights where my pain won’t let me sleep and my mind is racing.
i recently left my job because I was taken for granted. I did so much there and it all went unnoticed. I am fincailly stuck! I attempted to open up a store on etsy making bday banners. To be honest I feel like it’s a completely waste of time. Nothing seems to go right, it takes me so long to do one thing that I end up needing to go to the store and buy more things.
I feel so lonely, “my best friend” takes sucide as a joke. He told me today that he’s tired of seeing me cry in front of my son and that he’s more important than me. I have begged him for help and he just puts a band aid on top of me. He thinks I’m ok but even when I try to tell him my life feels like it’s ending he thinks I’ll get over it.
i also have a bf who much rather be on fb or be with his friends. Things have changed so much and I had so man anxiety attacks because of how bad we argue. He doesn’t take anxiety or sucide seriously. Sometimes I just wish to really find a way to end my life so they can realize how much pain I was in.
i have tried everything, from praying, meditating, writing in my journal to comstently saying affirmations. When I find a little bit a hope to wake up happy and do it for my son things get worse then before. I honestly think things will never change and I will never win. I feel like I’m permanently stuck loosing at everything.
thank you to whoever reads this.
when i say that i’m tired, i don’t just mean that i’m sleepy or strained; i mean i’m overwhelmed and at serious risk of going off the deep end.
i’ve done a bunch of stuff i’m not proud of, and i guess i don’t really wanna focus on that, but needless to say i’ve been in code red for the last two or three days; i’ve called the lifeline, mostly because i don’t know if i have friends who can stay up with me while i feel this way. but i reached out to a few close friends to see if they’ll help out.
update, they are not.
i’ve smoked so many cigarettes that my chest aches. i need some wine but the liquor store will be closed by the time i get home.
this totally sucks.
follow up/edit; the reason i feel like this is somewhere between ‘i’m gay and feel unacceptable’ and ‘i’m lonely and feel unloveable.’ i’ve been seeing a therapist for almost a year and he assures me that i’m acceptable and loveable but it sure feels like that’s not the case.
but i guess that’s the thing about feelings is that they are just feelings. they don’t actually reflect actuality they just reflect your reaction to it; and i’m like a teensy bit drunk right now because when you’re depressed the smartest thing to do is drink alcohol, a depressant.
i also recently gave a guy a bj for some drugs and that it has really kicked my butt to go over it again and again.
You like Iris by the GooGooDolls, A Drop In The Ocean by Ron Pope, who like because he’s just so genuine, you like You’re Beautiful by James Blunt because it’s just a classic, and for anybody to not have heard it is a tragedy. You love to sail, but don’t think it’s a sport, same thing with golf except you don’t play golf. You quite pop a while ack, but when you did drink it you liked Mountain Dew the best. You sand that Italian song for choir last year because when it’s translated it means so much to you. You used to watch Supernatural and I’d tease you by giving you fake spoilers, and you referenced that one obscure line. The line was an insult from me, which you replied to with Jerk. I didn’t even recognize it, but you remembered. When you had your first panic attack you texted everybody you thought could help you, which happened to include me. While you were having it, or shortly after, you looked up a site that told you to answer random questions to get your mind off of it. I kissed you in that red car and you said, “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” I replied with “I’ve gotten myself into worse.” On my birthday you said you couldn’t hang out because you were out of town, Minnesota I think. When it’s your shift, it’s your store. Oh God, why can’t I forget you?
Can you find were the empty beer cans are? yesterday I was craving alcohol and couldn’t sleep because of it. Around 3 pm I took a shower, dressed real nice, got me a bag of water and told my aunt that I was going to take a walk. Knowing I’m an alcoholic, she didn’t bring up any questions to my surprise! I walked a mile to the store, even anxiety couldn’t stop me! I got 12 cans of bud light because they were out of the good shit (natural ice). I carried about 30 pounds of water and beer back to my house. The hardest part was climbing a quarter mile up to my house (a very steep road) while carrying the cans of beer and water. Once I got inside I was sweating like a pig and breathing like I ran a marathon! I hid my beer right away and walked up stairs. Carla was “very proud of me for facing my fears and getting out of the house” once again I was shocked that she didn’t question that I got alcohol.
Around 3 am I woke up and made sure everyone was alseep. Than I silently drank the 12 pack of bud light (wish it was stronger). Than I hid all the beer bottles in my panels of my ceiling in the basement. I had a lot of fun tonight! Awesome thing about it is that I’m gonna get to drink Monday because Carla didn’t know I drink today.
i was supposed to be dead by now but the ATF system was down so i couldn’t buy a gun then i went the next day and it was up again and i bought the gun but they didn’t have .22 bullets so i went to another store and it turns out that there is a shortage of .22 bullets in the us right now i call 10 different stores and finally find a dicks that has some in stock and i go and get them. a couple hours later i prepare for my beautiful death and take out the bullets and line them up ever so neatly and i pick 2 out of the lineup because with my luck ill get a dud and I’ll be out because i plan on shooting a bunch of beer bottles that ill drink to calm my nerves. and I’m all ready to drive to the creek where i used to go when i had friends. i inspect my firearm like a true marksman would, and there it is a friggin trigger guard… bass pro shop didnt take it off before i left the store so i guess with all of the bullshit i encountered getting this plan together ill wait 1 week and if it things don’t get better or things get worse ill be ready… ill be at bass pro shop tomorrow to get that trigger guard off and i will have that glorious painless death I’ve wanted for the past year.
today was supposed to be my death day i was jittery and scared but i knew that something would happen to push me to where i needed to be to go through with it… and i was right! something happens every day that reminds me why i want to die. So i got my gun from bass pro shop and then i figure out they don’t have the ammo for the gun so i drive to a dicks and they don’t have it either so i go to another dicks and i finally find the right caliper bullets and i get home and i start to get to know my weapon like any good marksman would. And i open the case and what do i see you ask? a fucking trigger guard. They forgot to take it off before i left the store. so now i see that i have to wait a day or two at least. but when that day comes, it will be glorious.