Not literally but mentally. The saddest and most painful kind of dying is the kind on the inside. It takes time and you slowly become a you who is not you. I feel like everyday i am getting closer till whats left of myself gets sucked out of me. My personality, my spirit, my happiness. I only have some left and everyday i get closer because Im trapped. I just need to move out really soon. I have to leave with the little i have left.
Do I have to spend my life trying to try? Trying to fix things? No. Wrong question. But yes, being alive is being hopeful. Hopeful? Even though life eats you up all the way from the inside before it even begins to show on the outside. I’m talking about the scars you have from letting blood, because that makes sense; you cut yourself and blood escapes the crease that separates what binds the skin together.
Nor the bags under your eyes caused from endless sleepless nights or disturbed sleep caused by misread and confounding dreams that make you want to avoid sleep, one of the only things in this world that’s naturally an amnesic; sort of.
Nor the damaged liver you probably have gotten from the nightly ritual of consuming alcohol that’s habited itself into your sad, uneventful life.
Nor am I talking about the short-term memory you’ve developed from being inebriated on benzoes or abusing other drugs everyday just to try to go by your day and most especially to drown the bastard that’s only beginning to learn how to swim.
There’s probably more than just that? Am I missing anything else?
Does it sound weird when I say that I feel beautiful on the inside but every time I look in the mirror I see someone who is ugly and worthless. That will not get anywhere in life. Does anyone know what I’m talking about? Any kind of helpful tips to not feel so down on myself. I would appreciate any kind of tips!
Everyday is the same never f*cking ending routine. I get up, eat, go to work, come home and lay around until my body succumbs to drowsiness. I do nothing in my free time anymore. My passion for art is completely dead and my friends never invite me to do anything. They don’t text me or even come close to asking if they want to hang out with a loser like me. I feel alone. I feel uncared for. I feel unappreciated. I’m rotting from the inside out. Why the hell was i born if I was meant to suffer? If I was meant to hate myself and others for the way they treat me? Can’t I just live a full happy life? IS IT TO MUCH TO ASK!?!?
For my friends and family who read this, I hope your happy with how you changed me. Into someone anti social and afraid. I tried to be myself, to let myself be free. But you judged me, and the chains of depression held me back because you can’t accept me and don’t love me the way you do my sisters.
. . . Thanks for nothing.
My life right now seems akin to that of a leaf’s in fall: vibrant and full of color on the outside, but dying on the inside just waiting, aching really, for winter’s final gust.
I don’t know why I do the things is do. I don’t know why I think how I think. I don’t know why I’m so sensitive. I don’t know why I love with all my heart and soul. But in the process I’ve lost my dignity, my strength, and my manliness. I want to meet Jesus, assuming he’s my maker. When I do I’m going to ask him where I went wrong. I’m sure he’ll have no problem telling me how it is. I just hope he doesn’t banish me from eternal life because I pissed the one he gave me down my leg. Being in love is the most intense shit I’ve ever experienced. I’d rather be in a gunfight every day for a year than feel anymore pain from this thing called “love.” I can’t let her go, I can only let me go. If Jesus grants me life with him after death I suppose I can figure all this out then. In the meantime the real question is “how long should I give it my all before I give up?” How long should I strive to be better? A great man who gave his life for his country once said “we are never out of the fight.” But I’m not a great man anymore, so it seems a little ridiculous to live by those words, especially since I think about death every single day. So I guess I’ll keep hurting those around me for no reason. I’ll let them watch me decompose from the inside out. This should be fun.
I lay here all night and morning till the sun comes up. The light hurts my eyes now I’m so used to being alone in the dark and enjoying the quiet that I hate so much. It’s not that I like being alone it’s all I’m used to. How do you go about changing that? Make friends, get into a relationship, go outside and live a little? I can’t anymore, I’ve lost my connection with the rest of society it’s just me, my bed, and my thoughts. I don’t even want it to go away anymore I just want it to be quiet forever. I just want the world to go black and never have to worry, never have to cry myself to sleep, never have to take another breath again. I need help but won’t ask for it. Why won’t I ask? Why won’t the words escape my mouth? It’s like my demons are choking me keeping the words down and forcing my smile on my face again. I’m slowly dying and everyone thinks I’m perfectly fine. I’m withering away from the inside out.
Why do people say that? Time heals all wounds… classic quote that means shit. Dad, you died 2 years ago, and today is ‘your’ day .. I can’t celebrate it anymore, and I miss you so much. But 2 years.. no relief. That knife that twists in my stomach when I think about how much I wish we could trade places – it still hurts with the same intensity as the day you passed. I can’t stop hurting inside, I can’t stop wishing it was me instead of you – I don’t understand WHY God took you .. you are a thousand times more important, loved and significant than I am or will ever be; The crying never completely goes away. When I wear that smile I’m still dying on the inside. Maybe that’s why – God only takes the good ones… that would explain a lot. I want to join you – to end the torture that every day brings anew – but I feel like if I go through with it, I won’t be in the same place you are.
But – if heaven and hell are real – am i not in hell already?
I don’t want to be here anymore
I hate myself and I feel like a complete loser. I used to think I was somewhat pretty, but now I feel ugly, especially on the inside. I feel disgusting and dirty like I murdered someone. I am taking summer classes because I decided I just had to double major in another useless liberal arts field and it’s hard not to compare myself to people out having adventures and experiencing life. I don’t think it’s that lame to stay in school necessarily but for some reason I feel like I’m horrible for staying at home with my parents with no money or job, crying like a baby every day over how unhappy I am and thinking of myself all the time. I don’t try anything new, and I don’t know what I want to do any of the time, and I burn bridges with everyone and am terrified to see them in public. I can’t even rationalize why I feel disgusting and unworthy and hate myself but I’m unhappy because everything feels pointless and I don’t feel I can connect with anyone. Even interactions with my so-called couple of friends feel shallow and like I have to hide myself. I’m afraid of everything and everyone. I need some hope, I’m only 22 but I feel like an old person, like I’m almost in the grave already. I just want to feel better but I’ve been trying for a while and I don’t know what to do anymore.
I thought about suicide again today. The pill bottle was in my reach. All I had to do was grab it and walk to my room, but I didn’t. While I was walking by all I could think was “Life is worth living. You have to live.” Now I know I should have done it. The pain I feel everyday is like a whole getting bigger and bigger. It feels like someone is scraping the inside of my chest out. I just get so angry and I try to calm down. There is this method my Mom told me about. She always said “Count to ten and all is well again.” It helps for about three seconds and then the monsterous pain returns.
I am so bipolar.
I have really bad anger problems. Like I get so mad and I feel like I’m such a monster.
I feel so evil on the inside. I’m scared to know what I’m capable of doing.
It’s just that I feel like it takes over me and I can’t control it.
Is it just me? Am I that different?
This hits home so much for me. One struggling for so long when both sides are starting to crumble into one. One side the girl so happy, bubbly, full of life, always smiling or making others laugh. Then the other side of her. The one that cries her self to sleep at night, the one that cuts and self harms herself to keep her pain and emotions under control to keep her from crying out, the one thats hurting on the inside and feels like shes dieing, the one who thinks that speaking out wont do a damn bit of good cause its happened before. The ones that tired of feeling broken and betrayed.
I won’t be online much for the next few days. I’m going on a trip with a few people out of town. To get my mind off of things and just relax.
A disclaimer to the world.
I really don’t belong. There’s no conceivable place on this planet where I belong.
The public is my enemy. If you put someone in front of me, I’ll do everything in my power to disregard them, including not-disregarding them. My mask is so genuine that it even deceives myself half the time, such is the cost of being able to blend into society, and avoid being a homeless bum the rest of my pitiful existence (of which will continue to be a pitiful existence, bum or not, however bums are publicly pitiful, which is why I’m willing to throw myself away most of the time to wear a mask).
I hate the people I’ve yet to even meet yet. I hate the government which shelters and herds everyone around like cattle. I hate this world for choosing to exist in an infinitely improbable universe.
If you choose to listen or read anything I ever say, you should be cautious that you do not become me if you do not wish it; I apologize for not mentioning that sooner but yet…how could someone I’ve never met whom I’d hate to meet be any more important than myself? Or what I feel like garbling out, at least.
I’m already dead, you see, ‘on the inside’ as some would say. I chose when to die, quite a long time ago, perhaps a year or two at least…a long time for a dead person to wander, at any rate. I can’t see any reason to kill myself yet…just like I can’t see any reason to live a happy, fruitful life for no reason…
Every single option imaginable is still available to me, and I live on by making decisions to broaden that horizon…living with a fake persona to hide the darkness that so easily turns others away, as they become inflicted by the same neutrality, the same hopelessness that is myself. Getting through highschool a year before my peers, finishing up college with a degree that I could find no better alternative to with regard to the field I’m going into…
Soon I’ll have figures, money, more than I’ll ever know what to do with. I’ll have less time to work with, but after I can support myself, and gain a minor reputation through my work, I can recoup lost time fairly easily.
Choices. So many choices. Those that would, ironically, net me a death sentence, surely; along with those that I would be seen as a ‘good person’ for…a ‘saint’…I can’t even decide if I’d rather just watch the whole world burn….although, if it ended up being a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I doubt I’d have enough willpower to pass it up, out of sheer curiosity even.
I might end up never deciding anything particularly groundbreaking with my life. I may choose to do nothing but keep my options open as long as I can before they all whither away like a constantly-watered houseplant that never has its soil changed throughout the years…but that itself is a choice. Death is also a choice I can make for myself, and yet it isn’t, for if I don’t decide on it, I will soon die no matter.
I don’t know what to do I try and explain how I’m feeling to friends and they just say your fine. But I don’t feel fine. Most people see me and a nice funny smart person and wouldent think I’m depressed but I can’t eat I throw up the meal a day I way I can’t sleep . I don’t get it I need help but no one seems to care I honestly lost the thing that kept me going but what do I have now a family that honestly doesn’t care for me I don’t know what to do anymore I haven’t eaten for awhile. Now I’m hurting on the inside but I look good. Maybe because she left my life . She wants me to change and become a better person because honestly I know I fucked up and I understand that I was controlling and over protective over protective but I’m going to change I’ve been trying to change for you I honesty miss you in my life I know that people think I’m depressed because of you but you know that I’ve been like this before I met you . But I swear I’m going to change because I need you and I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes . I really miss you
I’m so confused…like during the day I’m fine and all but when I get home I just get these voices in my head telling me that I’m worthless and ugly and so many more names. I try to let out my pain by cutting but it doesn’t work anymore…I don’t feel it…I’m numb. I’m scared to tell my friends that I harm myself because they make jokes about people killing themselves and hurting themselves…I can’t lose them because they are all I have…I’m dying on the inside…I’m trapped…if I lose them then it’ll drive me off the edge…I’m scared to ask for help…I’m scared of judgment…I just don’t know what to do…I’m so lost and…confused.
Hey it’s me one of the many unknown here.I just…don’t have the power to speak to someone so i guess i will just you know write it here i guess somebody will see it.So i don’t know where to start but i aint gonna make this long i just don’t feel like it.I am here as always alone in my room after a couple of drinks just like always i burns on the inside i guess getting drunk is the only thing that helps me sleep.I’m just laying here alone i have nobody is the same day everyday i just think i’ll quit.I don’t think i can do this anymore it has come to a point that i don’t care about life anymore.I don’t know if u get me..fuck i shouldn’t be writing this…anyway i just wanted for the last time someone to hear me but i guess it has come to a point again that it won’t change anything..if anybody reads it um i don’t know you will think that my mind i raging as everyone seem to say…anyway thank you for your time..
Ever since I was little I dealt with a tumultuous relationship between my mom, my dad and my brothers. I’ve been abused my whole life. I use sex as a way to feel loved. I’ve had over 15 sex partners and I’m not even 18. I hate my brother most of all. He rubs his achievements in my face like he’s better than me. He makes fun of me cuz I had to stay back my freshman year of high school. I do recreational drugs to numb how I feel. But sometimes, I just want to die. I don’t want to feel anything anymore and I just want someone to love me so I don’t have to hurt myself on the outside because I hate what’s on the inside. I need help.
He handed me a pair of pliers
and he told me to pull out his teeth,
because as long as he had them he’d
use them to do bad things.
You’re cold on the inside,
there’s a dog in your heart
and it tells you to tear everything apart.
My body’s covered in teeth marks.
Your bite’s worse than your bark.
You ruin everything you touch and
destroy anyone you love.
You’re all over me.
He’d sunk his teeth into the flesh of many others,
infecting them with whatever was already inside him.
He’d broken all their hymens,
cut them open and played inside them.
He’d hollowed out their bodies so
they’d feel just empty as him.
You’re cold on the inside,
there’s a dog in your heart,
and it tells you to tear everything apart.
You draw blood just to taste it.
You hold bones just to break them.
You ruin everything you touch and
destroy anyone you love.
You’re all over me.