I have so many thoughts in my head right now that I can feel the weight of them pushing me down. There is so much going on at one time in my life right now that I don’t know how to sort it all out or how to even begin to deal with it. First there is all my friends leaving; I knew this was coming but for some reason in my sick and twisted world I had made myself believe that I had so much time to say goodbye and that summer was just going to last forever and no one was really going to leave. Now that I’ve said goodbye to my best friend, it’s clear that I was not ready for this at all. The thought of everyone making new friends and forgetting all about me keeps creeping into my mind and gives me mad anxiety. Also my parents have been really on my case lately. They keep forcing me to talk to them, and I feel like I’m walking on eggshells. They tell me I can trust them and I can open up to them, but if I say something they don’t want to hear then they lose their cool andÂ just rail me and tell me how much I fucked up. I had a feeling that they were talking about me and discussing the way I’ve been lately, but I tried giving them the benefit of the doubt that they wouldn’t act so immature as to talk about me behind my back. But tonight I found out (from my grandfather) that’s true and they figured if they were super tough on me then things would change. They don’t seem to realize that they can’t just go from super laid back and care free to the Inquisition over night…especially when they do it to someone who is severely depressed. It just solidifies my feelings that no matter what I do for them it will never be good enough and I’ll always be a disappointment in their minds. I so want to leave and forget about this whole fucked up life here. I don’t think I can stay here much longer. I need to get away and experience new things and have my faith in this world restored. I know there are so many things out there for me, just waiting for me, and I have no way of getting to them. I’m starting to come to terms with staying here for a while, and I kind of found my purpose for staying. And it’s my little sister. She starts high school tomorrow, and I know how freaked out she is. When I started high school it was right around the time my parents split up and I remember how much it helped to be able to talk to my older sister during such a big change. So I’m just going to try and be here for her and make sure that she doesn’t end up as fucked up as the rest of this family. I don’t think I would ever tell her, but right now she’s the only thing that’s keeping me from taking a razor to my wrists and ending it all. And actually writing that down and admitting it makes me so sad, but it’s true and now I’m crying too hard to continue this post anymore.
Time In My Life
So here’s the thing.
Oct 3rd is when I get married and its coming up pretty fast. I know this should be a grandest time in my life but the truth is, I am just not that happy about it.
The man I am marrying is the greatest, generous person in the world. He really is just that wonderful.
But I cheated on him. :\
I am not going to make excuses for what I have done because I was fully aware of what I was doing and wanted to do.
I can honestly say I have never been a cheater. Even with all the shitty ass boyfriends I went through, the urge to “cheat” never crossed my mind.
And what is even more unsual is that I feel absolutely no guilt what so ever. Why is that?
I cry for my partner because I know it would kill him if he knew.
I cry for the fact that the man that I slept with simply used me.
I cry because I still feel lonely.
I cry because I am not marriage material.
I cry because I am so afraid of the future.
I cry over all these other stupid reasons but I do not feel guilty of what i have done and believe me, I know I should.
I have thought that ending my life would be better than my partner finding out, but that is not all of the reason for wanting to end my life.
Loneliness, lack of self confidence, paranoia of the present, the fear of failing, the god damn anxiety attacks, and just the pure sadness of everything makes me want to end it all. The fact that I cheated just puts a big layer of shit flavored icing on the cake.
whenever someone finds out that I’m a sociopath, they always think I’m a serial killer. They obviously aren’t very bright. I am a violent person, naturally, but I’m proud to say I’ve never gutted another human and worn their skin. Let’s just say I plot. I don’t act out on those plot, but I’m sure they would succeed.
Lately, I’ve lost a lot of things. I lost money from my bank account. I got a B on a test. I wouldn’t care about my idiotic professor’s opinion if it didn’t make a difference on my record. He gave me a fucking B. It deserved an A.
And I’ve been proven wrong lately. I normally would never accept defeat, but I feel moronic for the first time in my life.
Also, I don’t know what’s happening. There is one person I actually care about. They think that you can change someone like me, but you CAN’T. I was born this way, I will stay this way. I’m not sure whether I actually care about this person or I’ve over looked an advantage they might give me.
My therapist is an idiot too. Why the hell do these people think that talking to a random woman will help me? I’m not going to kill anyone!
It’s been a long time… I’m just so ready for it to just…end.
I’ve reached a new low. A low, where the first time in my life, the cutting isn’t enough. The distractions, the stories… even my art has become dull and lifeless. Leaving the house is painful. Seeing so much happiness. It hurts, so much. And the stares, the rumors. I pretend they don’t bother me, but when I’m alone, their words are sharper than any of my knives. I found this movie, stumbled on it, really… And it seems so stupid. Â So fake- but I love it. The idea of finding a world….a place where people understand you. Where they won’t attack you and ridicule you. Â A world where everyone supports each other.
I don’t know why I hurt so much, or why everything Â feels empty. I don’t eat, don’t sleep, really. And I know I need to ask someone for help. But who? Â I can’t ask my parents…they think I’m being melodramatic. They don’t see hoe bad I’ve gotten. And I don’t trust doctors. I wouldn’t let them near me. Â Really… the only person I could trust enough to ask for help is the one who offers suicide as an out, if I’m so miserable. But I don’t *want* do die. I just want to make this pain end, and nothing I’ve tried has been working, no matter how hard I try… and it really makes me wonder…
Is Suicide the only way?
I’m not sure why I feel compelled to share my story, but for whatever reason I’m not sure I can stop myself from typing these words. But I will try to keep to details to a minimum and will just cover the most important aspects to keep this short. In high school I was an introverted nerd, but the first year actually turned out to the best, and it was only downhill from there. I had large ears and a stutter, the latter of which would often limit the conversations and connections and I could have with other people. In grade eight I started to feel depressed and was put on anti-depressants, but the initial lift I got from my medication seemed to subside after the first few months. I also started to get painful under the skin acne, and for the first time in my life most of my concerns were fixated on my appearance as oppose to just my stutter or the general nervousness I felt around new people. In year ten I suddenly started to get head tremors that would cause me head to ‘twitch’ from side to side, which just made me even more of a prime target for teasing and ridicule. By that point it just felt life was kicking me when I was down, and girls in particular made fun of me a lot. And of course I never had the confidence to stand up for myself; without exaggeration I had no self-esteem to speak of. All the crushes and attractions I’d had to girls in my year level were unrequited, but it’s not something I’ve ever felt bitter about. Don’t get me wrong it deeply hurts to be lonely on a level which few people will have to experience, not to mention going through a life devoid of any kind of emotional or physical intimacy. But in my own head I never blamed the girl’s I liked for not reciprocating interest, I was hardly some great catch. That said, I did henceforth hold the view that women were the ones most likely to pick on me and use my vulnerability against me. But going back to the head tremors, that was the first time I’d experienced something akin to panic attacks. It felt like I was stuck in a nightmare when I’d try to sit still in class and I couldn’t stop my head from moving. I could hear the people sitting behind me and around me laughing at me, so I tried to skip as many classes as I could without raising too much concern with any school teachers. It just seemed so unfair that in a time when most of the people in my year level were working out who they were and what they wanted I was being beaten down with another ‘physical inadequacy’.
The head tremors did reduce by year eleven, but the damage was already done. I felt completely detached and alienated,Â but I was just trying me best to drag myself to the end even though I had little remaining energy or motivation to be there. But that point people were starting to consider who they wanted to see after high school, and I felt like as though I had no real place in anyone’s life. I’d only been to about three parties and I could feel the three friends I was close to begin to drift away from me. And all those casual friends and acquaintances just wouldn’t exist after graduation either. Going to the last exam and then walking home by myself was the loneliest I had felt at that point. Over the holidays I largely stayed inside my own house, leaving only if there was some essential family gathering and to do some part time work just before entering study. I didn’t get very high marks when graduating from school, so to get into my desired course I had to enroll at a University further than I would’ve liked. That was when it really hit me that thing’s had changed forever. It occurred to me that the only way I was able to get through school was by using my friends as a barrier for my lack of confidence and social incompetence. But I had no friends to shield my now, and although I tried not to draw attention to myself I began to realize that I was not able to fit in with normal people. I was experiencing new levels of anxiety and depression, and it was so overwhelming that after two weeks I transferred to the University at which my dad works. But it changed nothing, I still felt absolutely terrible around any of the students I would have to walk by or sit near in lectures. I could vaguely remember what it was like to be normal in my earlier life, and an entire year of that seemed like a breeze compared to a single day outside of my house. What I was experiencing seemed beyond comprehension, I mean how could I tell my parents that suddenly being around people felt like being punched in the stomach? It was much worse than the anxiety I had felt when the head tremors started or being expected to do a school presentation and expecting to stutter. My heart rate would suddenly start racing when I arrived at my University, and I started to develop new quirks like using my hand to block off anyone from seeing my from my profile.
I began looking into whatever mirror I could (bathroom mirror, car mirror, reflections etc.), and I began to notice how disgusting I found not just my acne but also my facial features. It went beyond just hating a handful of individual physical shot comings because now all I could see was this hideous monster staring back at me. My nose had never concerned me in the past but now I hated it’s bulbous tip and how far it projected from my face, which made me particular self-conscious about my profile. I hated how creepy and intense my eyes looked, even if they were completely relaxed, and my long, narrow face shape. Sometimes I would go to the opposite extreme of the scale and would manically avoid any mirrors or reflections. About four months into my University course it just became too much for me, it just felt like the whole world was against me. I would always get stared at and ignored by the students in my classes, I felt like an outsider to say the least. Other than my parents and sister it felt like there wasn’t a single other person I was important to, and for the first time in my life suicide had become a very possibility. It has crossed my mind a couple of times during high school, but now I began to think about methods and plan out the ideal dates. But nothing about me as a person wanted to die, it was merely that I didn’t want to deal with my circumstances. I found myself wanted to jump off one of the high story buildings at my University, but I couldn’t push myself into doing it. When I returned home I explained to my sister the frame of mind I was in and my suicidal thoughts which of course led to telling my parents. I was rushed to an emergency team who analyzed my situation, but because I hadn’t actually attempted suicide they didn’t feel it was necessary to put me into a psych ward. I started seeing a psychiatrist and went on different medication, but most importantly I dropped out of my study course. I told my parents that I had other plans, and to some extent I believed that myself, but really all it was just the beginning of my six year stretch as a shut-in.
My parents tried to encourage me to go out regularly, but the only thing that made sense to my was how I felt emotionally. And being outside and around people felt worse than a nightmare, it made me feel lower than low. But staying inside and playing a new video game or watching a new movie was euphoric, and to immerse myself further and further into escapism became my only goal. It was my only pleasure in life, the only thing that gave me something to look forward to. Although I was broke over the years I’d try to buy as many budget games and download as many movies as I could. After a couple of months as a recluse I had to acknowledge to myself that this was not some short-term problem that would vanish at the snap of a finger, nor was it something I had the strength or willpower to try and overcome. Although I have matured over time given that I was something of a man child back then, I am and have always been a weak person. I have always been much more emotional than the majority of guys out there, and extremely sensitive to any kind of criticism our ridicule. It’s not that I wanted to live life as a loser and a freak, It just didn’t seem like there were any other options. My depression and anxiety left me just enough energy to get up in the morning. I became entirely reliant on escapism, and although I’ve never suffered from hallucinations I became so involved with my own fantasies that I’d forget just how little was actually happening in my real life. So for the first four years of being a shut-in I almost subconsciously believed that I would saved in some magical way, that I was too nice as a person to be stuck with the cards I had been dealt. My life just seemed unfair beyond words and often I’ve tried to console myself by speculating that anybody would do just as poorly at life if they were in my shoes. There was just no way that I could accept that my daily existence was my life, and to get somewhat ahead of myself after years of deliberating and making plans for suicide it’s actually going to happen.
A number of other significant things happened in those first four years, but rather than go into any great detail I will just skim over them… Such as my initial loss of my sex drive because I just didn’t want to think about women. Or the tug of war match between my overbearing parents and my stubborn refusal to push myself outside of my comfort zone. Or all the different dermatologists recommendations and home remedies I tried in the futile hope of improving my skin. Or the suicide attempt via overdose that just resulted in uncontrollable puking and a tedious nine days spent in a psych ward. Or the plastic surgery I had done on my ears, but was severelyÂ disappointed given that I also had planned for surgery on my nose, chin and jaw but didn’t have the money necessary. Or my return to thinking about girls and getting stuck into compulsive masturbation and continuing to faun over pictures of pretty actresses. Or how on top of acne I developed a skin disorder called seb dermatitis in which my face is constantly dry and flaking. Or the stream of psychologists, psychiatrists and medications that I’ve been through only to eventually come to the same conclusion; that the problem was not my attitude, my perception. I could even go into more detail just how awful I feel when I see people stare at me with pity, laugh at me behind my back and treat me as though I’m so pathetic and tragic that I am so much lower than them and every other ‘normal’ person.Â Or the pure hatred and spite I felt for towards all people for being so judgmental towards me and not allowing me into their normality and society. For a long stretch of time I was fixated on the fantasy of showing people what I have to deal with on a daily basis and how much normal people just perpetuate my own anxieties and concerns. But mostly the fantasy that stuck with me was the one of looking the way I want to look, usually like a certain actor (most notably a young Val Kilmer). I would obsess over pictures of faces, and I’d dream of having perfect skin, no stutter or head tremors, chiseled masculine features and beautiful eyes. Without exaggeration there hasn’t been a single day in the last six years that I haven’t wallowed in my own self-hatred and indulged in the fantasy of looking like my ‘ideal self’. And whilst years three and four of being a recluse were difficult given that It became harder and harder to ignore the reality of my situation, years five and six (six counting as the first half of this year of course) have just been brutal.
The aforementioned seb dermatitis skin disorder has only gotten worse and worse, which only made me even more self-conscious than I had ever been and increased the frequency of people’s stares. I really grew to hate the way someone can communicate so much disgust and rejection just with their eyes. Sometimes prior to the fifth years my skin would improve temporarily and I would doubt that it was my worst short coming, but without a doubt it is the sole focus on my anxiety now. People look at me and immediately their own faces, which I suppose is some sort of non-verbal way of communicating their confusion and repulsion to flaky look of my skin. I put on cover-up to hide the red marks, but that only makes the dryness look worse. As with my acne I’ve tried everything I could think might help but to little avail. My head tremors would often be there in full force, so all in all it feels impossible to walk by another human being without standing out like a sore thumb. But perhaps even harder than that was realizing how much games, films and the internet just weren’t enough. Sure, I continued to immerse myself in these things compulsively but the euphoria had died down. And even though enough enjoyment still remained experiencing these things no longer felt fulfilling in the absurd way that they used to. And although I had been painfully lonely in the past it would usually last for a few days or a week. This year and the last loneliness has been like my default state of mind. I hit me just how much I wanted more then escapism, which in retrospect is a realization I probably want to bury into my subconscious. Escapism just wasn’t enough, it had merely been an adequate distraction for a few years. What I wanted was to look like my ideal self not just for my own peace of mind, but to have a real, proper life. I want friends to hang-out with, a girlfriend to experience romance with, travel and adventure, independence and organization and most importantly to be able to connect with people. The other revelation I’ve had is that in these last six years I probably haven’t connected with anybody no matter how much I wanted to? How many people in real life are going to empathize and be able to relate to my situation? How could I ever get past my own anxiety to actually look people in the eye when they are talking or through my body language and voice feign any kind of normality?
I haven’t merely been isolated in the physical sense, but I’ve been cut-off from emotional connection to anybody. I live inside my own head that is full of fantasies and daydreams and the only joy I get comes from things that aren’t real. The level that I’m on is so much lower than anybody else I could walk by or talk to, and in retrospect it seems like no matter what I could’ve tried in my first year as a hermit I would’ve eventually reached this conclusion. During this year and last I’ve had so many days where I just can’t stop myself crying, I’ve had so many empty nights wondering what it would be like to hangout with mates, to experience physical intimacy with a girl or to feel like you have real opportunities and goals at your disposal. A lot of anger I had for people subsided too, which only left me to further remind myself of my own loneliness and to mull over the embarrassments and disappointments of my past. So many times I considered killing myself from the loneliness but as usual my fear of death and complacency kept me going for a bit longer. I honed down on watching as many movies as I could and tried to use them as replacements for real life experiences. If I wanted to get a basic idea of love and intimacy was like I’d watch an indie romance drama, or to have friends I’d watch I hangout movie or a comedy/dramedy with a hangout aspect to it. Even films that were stylized I would try to use in place of actual experiences, but usually it would just remind me how much more I really wanted to go through these things myself and not through the detached state of looking at a television or computer screen. I wished that I could just experience the meaty parts of anybody’s life, anyone who has ever lived. And that I could experience a film not as though I was actually a specific character but as though I was really there as this passive observer. The disconnect between myself and the escapism I had on hand only reminded me that it could never stand-up to the real deal. And whenever I go outside and see everyday people I get jealous beyond words because they have been given what I feel a deserve just as much as they do. I don’t have a strong desire for fame, riches or excelling academically, athletically or creatively. What I want, and what most people have been given, is the chance to live a real, normal life.
I tried so hard to latch onto the next movie or game that might prolong my life a bit longer, but I’ve delayed my suicide plans for too long. I haven’t been able to deal with my life for six years now, and finally it’s going to be over. I won’t have to wake up and look in the mirror, only to see red marks from acne, dry skin from my skin disorder and a face so hideous that I want to cry. No longer will I have to walk out in public and see those awful, pitying looks and stares normal people give me. No longer will I have to deal with this anxiety and depression. So now that I am going to end my life on this very day I will say that the main thing I feel is disappointment. I guess I’m too tired and empty to feel angry at mankind, and although I look back fondly on some of my moments with movies and video games, escapism just isn’t enough to give me motivation to live for even another week.Â I do feel guilty for doing this to my family, the only people still a part of my life, but I just don’t see how I could be expected to deal with this any longer. I’m not scared of death, for I believe there is something better after it. But there’s nothing that shake this feeling of disappointment at the forefront of my mind. I really did want to have a proper life, and even if it took me a while to recognize it I really want to be around and connect with people. I wanted the chance to show the world I could make something of myself, not to to fulfill the expectations or society or the people in it, but to work at my own goals and to live a life I could be happy with. I wouldn’t reject the chance at having a care-free luxurious life, but ultimately what I desired was to have as much as the average person not more. Anyway, I guess this is goodbye from a stranger to a stranger. I hope you have a life worth living, and if you do by all means treasure it and make the most of it. Goodbye.
I apologise for following such beautiful song lyrics from The Hunger Games with such a negative post.. but I feel this encapsulates the way I’m feeling exactly.
Let me take you on a journey. 19 years ago, my Mother began to emotionally and sometimes physically abuse me over the course of my life. In my eyes, I never had a Mother. I never grew up being nurtured and receiving that maternal, unconditional love. 4 years ago, my Mother physically ‘bashed me up’, in need of a better statement. I left her immediately, I left my little siblings, my friends, comfort, my school, I left EVERYTHING that I knew and had come to love. I lost a part of myself that day, a part that I have never been able to get back. It has taken 4 arduous years and many attempts at reconciling with her to finally have made some progress. But every time I look into her eyes, I feel all those horrible things rush over me like they did 4 years ago. Nothing will ever be the same again. The nightmares will never stop.
But 4 years ago, I got together with the most wonderful guy I’ve ever met. My soul mate, my better half. We have such a deep connection that could never be replicated; a once in a life time thing. He has been my sole source of love and support over this difficult time in my life, and unfortunately, has been on the receiving end of a lot of my depression symptoms. I have put him through hell and back, yet he still stuck by me. It was only 6 months ago when I decided it was enough – I HAD to seek help and I HAD to get better, so I could be happy again, so I could be the best person I could be for myself and for him. I wouldn’t let myself ruin his happiness any longer with my own depression.
I put it off though. We broke up, I tried to convince him to move on, I tried to fill the gap with other boys, but I could never actually bring myself to physically be with someone else. Just a few weekends ago, he kissed one of my ‘friends’. He danced with her at a club. This all must sound so ridiculous to you, but to have the love of my life be with one of my friends.. it just killed me. Well, it almost did. That very night, I was so intoxicated, I decided that wandering around the streets until 6AM was the best course of action. I could be murdered maybe. I ended up going home, unharmed, and cried. I cried and cried, that’s all I did for 3 days. I’d had enough, so I bought some sedatives and strongly considered ODing. I took 4 at a time, making me dead to the world, making me feel so out of it. That was enough to pull me through, until he reentered my life.
He apologised profusely and expressed his deepest regrets, and I couldn’t take it anymore – I NEEDED him back. I would not risk losing him again, I was so close to. So we became involved again, and I started to see a counsellor. We agreed not to get back together ‘officially’ until I was better. This agreement we had, seeing each other exclusively but not actually being together, was confusing but enough to keep me living.
It was just last night that he reiterated how he didn’t want to get back together. I suppose I had an ulterior motive all along; I thought that being with me again would make him realise that that’s the way we should be. But I was wrong. He wants his freedom, he doesn’t want to be with me, the very true love I found is not as true as I thought. He doesn’t want me. I want him. What to do.
I’m planning on starving myself. When feeling depressed, my hunger is always the first thing to go; I’ve gone about 5 days at the most without eating. I feel that I could easily go through with it. I have Googled about it and found a lot of evidence to support that it won’t be the most painful thing in the world.
He is not the only reason I no longer want to be here. It’s the fact that I feel like I am living for NOTHING. I hate university, I don’t have a job because I’m way too afraid to get one, and I can’t stand being rejected any more; the only actual thing I live for now is my cat. I am serious. I think my cat is the only reason I’m still here. That is how empty my life is. I have nothing.
I have become desensitised to suicide. I have had these thoughts so, so often; researched so many methods, that it’s just something I’ve been putting off for a while. I do not know if there is an afterlife, but I don’t really believe in it – I’m sure I’ll just fade off into nothingness. And that is marginally better than just living this half-life and waiting to die.
hi my name is umair ad i am 21 years old my story of life is very unique when i was 5 year old my cousin said me that she loves me she was just 4 years old and now our love is 17 years old this is very strange we started to love each other when we did not know the meaning of love but i think we started to loveÂ because we born for each other i was living very happy life with her but at the start of this year my cousin told me Â that her parents are looking for a good boy to marry with her i becameÂ frustrated and i told my mother that i love my cousin but she say i will never allow you to marry her she is not a good girl .but the fact is that my mother met with her just one time and i know her from 17 years i know she is the best girl i ever saw but today my mom says even if you die i will never allow you to marry her i am veryÂ dippers ed i love my mother she is very good but i cant leave my love i did not tell my love that my mother is not supporting her instead i told her thatÂ Â my mother will come to your home to talk to your parents after 2 years .i am very sad i lied to her for the first time in my life because i can not see my love sad. now i do not want to live, my friends says that you are very talented dont waste your life you will become good for humanity but frankly speaking i have no feelings in me i never feel happy my mind remains confuse everytime i started to forget things like what i haveÂ eaten one hour before i don not know why my mother is doing that with me, my brother went to america and he married with a girl and did not tell my mother but when she became aware of his marriage she did not scold him,my another brother have three crushes and my mother supports him and now he is living happily with his love but, she scolds me every time that you areÂ interestedÂ in a girlÂ Â and etc.i post here because i just want to know a way to end my life i dont want to live more than 8 months but i want to end my life by doing something good Â e.g some Â social workÂ or something else.please suggest me??
Hey everyone , you can call me Reem . I’m 16 years old and live in Saudi Arabia .. at the first look at me you’ll see a normal girl who has an amazing life , who doesn’t need anything and has no reason to be sad or deprssed , but that proves you don’t know me ..
I’ve been holding this for a long , long , long time … I forgot even when it all started , but I wanna let it out and share it in order to fully open up for the first time in my life !
when I was little I was molested by my aunt’s son .. my uncle’s son saw it all and started blackmailing me asking for what he saw .. I didn’t know what to do except keep saying no .. and then I met this cousin of mine , he was sweet , caring and he listened to me .. that was when I was 9 …
when I reached 12 I told him about what happened between me and my aunt’s son .. He came up to me after 2 days telling me he doesn’t wanna talk to me anymore because of what happened .. I was heartbroken , he was the first onlyÂ person who listened to me and were there for meÂ .. I was forced to feel unloved and aloneÂ since I was 12 .. I started noticing my flaws .. comparing myself with every girl I see , I stopped eating cause I realized I was fat and convinced myself that me being fat is a reason why none of the girl like talking to me..
The next year was my first year in middle school , I made up my mind on starting new this year and trying to get over everything .. I met these girls , they were funny , hilarious .. and sweet .. I ruined what they had with me with lies ..
I kept telling them a lie after a lie .. and ironically I thought they believed it when they were making fun of me behind my back .. and when they confronted me with those lies I told .. I froze .. I realized that what I have done was wrong … I was speechless .. obviously they stopped talking to me ..
a year later I met my aunt’s son (that asshole) and he looked straight in the eye .. like he didn’t do anything wrong to me .. like it’s ok that he ruined my childhood and made nightmares haunt me since I was an innocent little child ..
I grew up being perverted thanks to what he did to me .. I saw him in every guy .. I couldn’t trust anyone after that look he gave me .. I felt cold , heartless .. I began to turn like him .. after all he had his imprint on me
after 2 yearsÂ , at the beginningÂ of this school year .. I went to the same highÂ school that those girls from middle school went to .. I thought it’d be ok to start fresh with themÂ , and I didÂ .. no more lies , no more heartlessness.. thenÂ something that broke me to the core happened …
I had a friend who I helped once , his name is Alex and he’s aÂ selfharmer .. I promised him that I’ll always be there for himÂ , he told me he felt loved when I told him that promise ….Â 3 months after that , I heard about his overdose … I was Devestated , I didn’t know what to do or what to say .. I broke my promise , I wasn’t there for him when he needed me like I said I would .. I’m a hypocrite liarÂ and a promise breaker … that’s what I am Â
I spent my whole week on my bed crying .. the last 2 days I cried feeling numb like I forgot why I was crying in the first place .. one day my older sister walked in and asked why I haven’t been eating for the last 4 weekz .. I ignored her .. she said :”you’re worthless , you know that , right ? you’r just an extra number in this family that’s all” .. To make her shut up I got every little scrap of the energy left in me and went to the bathroom .. crying silently and hitting the walls and punching my thighs didn’t make me feel better like it used to .. and then I realized that I stopped feeling .. looked in the mirror and saw that I was crying like I never did , My eyes were swallon red with dark circles around them for not sleeping and having nightmares all night long .. I looked down at my hands and I saw them covered with bruises from hitting the walls .. my thighs are even worse … and I kept asking myselfÂ “when did this all happen ? where have I been ? did I truly did this to myself ? seriously ?”Â to be honest , I didn’t feel sad about it .. I didn’t feel madÂ ,Â disgusted or any of those things .. I couldn’t feel my senses .. I just felt the coldÂ , you know what I mean ?
I asked myself “bruises , Scratches .. what else Reem ? how low can you get” .. I lookedÂ down at my arms and used my nailÂ to cut deep ..Â I wanted to feel something .. I NEEDED to feel something .. a couple of blood drops fell on the wet floor .. it felt amazingÂ , relieving and safe .. it was the only pain I could control ..
yes ..I started cutting using my nails and twice only I used the scissors .. A lot of people haven’t noticed that I’ve been wearing long sleeves or anything of that so I thought I was safe .. I told my so called friend at school about it and showed them my cuts .. they kept lecturing me saying “Open your eyes ! Look around , you have a great life you should be grateful” I didn’t say anyhting as always , I stayed quiet ..
that was 4-5 months ago .. now I haven’t cut since My little sister saw my cuts and told me that she was afraid of me going to hell for killing myself ..the look on her eyes .. yes IÂ felt relievedÂ when I did it .. but still I didn’t wanna hurt my little sister ..
and now , I’m ashamed of what I used to do , yet I still hurt but I don’t show it .. I bury it deep inside of me ..I rememeber these lines from the song I bleed by Outcast youth :
“I try everyday just to keep getting better
to block out the thoughts but I’m under the weather
the pressure is building , I need to release
I’m out of my depths and I’m feeling week
I’m sick of this pain and I want it to end
my oldestÂ enemy and my only friend
a blade in my hand and my life in front of me ,
I’m Stranded between relapse and recovery”
I relate to that song soo much .. and now Everyone looks at me like I’m a life savior and an inspiration while I break everyday in my room remembering that promise I broke … they don’t know how many long nights I’ve stayed up crying ..they don’t know how many nights I’ve stayed up on my bed for no goddamn reasonÂ ..
and now I’m constantly torn between killing myself or killing everyone around me …
what should I do ? I don’t wanna hurt anyone anymore …
Hi, this post is just about me and why i decided to join. its not some inspirational story to make you change your mind. just me and my experiences. I joined cause I needed someone to listen who understood or could relate.
It all starts with my brother, we were insepreable as childeren and got along fabulously, but as soon and me moved across the country and we had to make new friends we stopped talking. he bacame an athlete I became the geek, (cliche i know) he had all the friends I spent elemetary with none. After a while I became very angry at everything and i would lash out. Soon after that started my parents put me in a counciling program where i spend 4 hours everyday after school with my personal counciler, but I cant misbehave infront of stangers, so this is where i mastered how to hide my feelings, but there were days i would loose it. i spent most of my time playing with army men in my room or sleeping, in fact i spent my sisters birthday in my bed. Since i had no friends i didnt have parties or even birthday parties. i just didnt care. the only thing i looked forward to was waking up to “Seven Nation Army” by the White Stripes every school morning. I was a selfproclaimed loner and i was alone. i started to get bad grades and it coused me to repaent 4th grade. i was the geek who couldnt pass class… the next year my family moved back to where we lived before, and my brother, who now was the king of his middle school, was wrestling captian, and football linebaker plus had girlfriend, became very angry. he lost everything in the move while i only gain new sceanery.
at this time in my life i was 5′ 11” and 180lbs in the 5th grade, i was huge. all through 5th and 6th grade iwas alone and all the girls i had crushes on were disgusted by me…but there was one girl named sydneyÂ who made a difference. she saw me hoodie up blasting rock music in my headphones, head against the window of the bus and she made the choice to sit and talk to me. when she did i threated her, and it was the first time i reconized that i had lashed out, when tears came to her eyes and was about to leave i apoligized and introduced myself. we were friends then best friends then we dated and then we had sex, we loved each other. the only problem is that we were in the 7th garde. after having sex with her, i became an addict, i watched porn i had sex with her everyday afterschool. i destroyed myself and her. in the 8th grade i joined the jv basketball team for the highschool. i guess i found the one thing i was good at. i lost alot of weight and i also grew taller. i became the popular kid in only 3 mothes. but it was short lived.Â sydneyÂ and i broke up and i just gave up again. i noticed my brother was no longer angry but was the most sought after guy in the school. i wanted that feeling of being wanted again. so i followed his foot steps. he played a sport and so did i. he joined a musical and so did i. then he got into drugs… and one day he brought me along. first it was cigaretts that i was hooked on, then we got in to weed. once i had weed i realized i didnt need all those other people to make myself feel good, so i became a druggy in the 8th grade. when freshman year came around i had lost everything but my drugs. another girl came around tho, named sara Â but at first she only wanted me cause i looked and acted just like my brother, but what my brother and sara didnt know is that i had already had sex and alomost everything else too. now there were only 20o kids in the school so i was surprizedÂ no one had spread around that i had had sex. she convinced me to stop being like my brother and be myself. so i joined the jv basketball team again only as captain that year, and we lost every game, this was a huge blow to my confidence. i stopped participating again andÂ i started to gain weight again. me and sara crushed andÂ hooked up a few times. my brother went to colledge and i was suposed to be his replacement for the highschool. i said no. i did what i wanted and took no crap. and that cause soooo much drama. i hate drama, people where telling me how to live my life and all the people that my brother had ratted out for durgs when he quit using took out all their hate on me. i became the school punching bag. but sara (who is 2 years older) stood with me and that was all i needed because she was known around the school.
we moved across the country again only to the arizona this time. i lived with my cousins for a few months before my family got our own place. i had no friends again. all of sophmore year i was lone. during lunch i went to the library to read, the librarians i knew on a first name basis. i continued to fail classes. by junior year i made a few friends and got into photgraphy. i met a girl named kendal, she is very relious and i was still a hard smoker. i asked her to homecoming and she said only if i stopped smoking for 2 weeks before the dance, and i did. a few weeks after the dance we started seeing alot of each other. soon we were dating. i had to take a week off of school to see my brother graduate from basic training for the Air Force, he had finally found his calling after failing colledge and living with us again. i was proud, and i called kendall that night and told her thats what i wanted to do, and since she is so religious she told me she doesnt want to marry a guy like me so us dating was pointless. she ended it.Â i liked her alot but i had grown aloth since my last girlfriend, so i said i understood and respected her decision and we became best friends. senior year rolled around and i hated school, i just want to drop out and get a job. i failed most of my clasess first semester and over winter break i made the decision to try and finish high school. i didnt. its now close to the end of the school year and i have to repeat senior year. all the new friends ive made are leaving my best friend is moving to a new state, i will have no one again.
throughout this entire time all i wanted was for people to notice me, i had made it my purpose in high school to make sure no other kid had felt the way i do, so i did whatever it took to make everyone i saw happy, or even smile. i did a great job but it was very depressing, becauseÂ i gave other people my happiness.Â i realized no one i made happy tried to make me happy when i was having those bad days. it didnt matter who i was or what i did, people around me just seem not to care about me anymore, they see me as a failure and are trying to distance themselves. i know the people in my life who truly love me and wish me good things, and i know most of my problems are my own fault, but if i had just one day where one person came up to me and thanked me for what i did for them i would be okay. but they wont, they havent for 4 years. i want people to notice and aknoledge my exsistance. honestly killing myself has never been my thing, i want to hurt myself, to feel pain. not this numb feeling like nothing in the world cares about me.
this has been my life and my feelings, i wrote this so i could put it out there. im not asking for a way out i asking for someone to listen.
for future happiness,
I have a lot of admiration for many of you who can actually go through the act of attempting suicide.Â I have wanted to since I was 7 years old and have not had the courage.Â I am now 53 and still a woos.Â I suppose what it boils down to is that I really don’t want to kill myself but to be put out of my misery.Â Don’t get me wrong.Â I have come very close a time or two and someday I may just get that courage to succeed.Â I have lived with myself for many years and all I know is that no matter how good life can get to be I always end up back into the pain and anger and loneliness, shame, hate, despair…need I go on?Â I have no idea how I initially became depressed when I was 7 but I have struggled every day of my life until I was around 30.Â Things got a little better because it had to.Â I hadÂ anger, but even worse I had rage and I would go off on my kids.Â That was my realization I needed some help.Â Â For the first time in my life received medication and counseling and I got involved in the kids school.Â The rage left pretty much for good but everything else was just laying dormant.Â My self esteem and self worth always remained constant.Â I have had good times in my life, even great times, but I have never liked myself.Â I have seldom felt love or that I was beautiful.Â And as I get older it just seems to grow stronger.Â I am now on Lamotrigine and Cymbalta, see a therapist and a psychiatrist, and guess what… I still hate myself.Â Â My thoughts of dying are constant now, whether I will act on them or not.Â Not a day goes by that I do not think about dying, even when times are good.Â All it takes is one small incident to set things off and I lose control and fall deep into an episode of depression.Â That happened the other day.Â I was written up at work for under performing.Â Just I was written up when the whole team is under performing.Â I just could not handle it.Â I wanted to kill myself and I still want to kill myself.Â I just have no courage.Â I feel pathetic because even though the urgency has subsided some, I am determined to do something to hurt myself.Â The pathetic part is that I really really want to hurt myself and land myself in the hospital (because I can’t just go there on my own) and to feel some caring from other human beings.Â If I die in the process so be it.Â I have gone through my life hurting with such a deep pain and void that only one who has gone through it could understand.Â High school was the toughest for me.Â There was nothing for teens at that time.Â That angers me.Â Now most programs focus on teens and suicide and that too angers me because it was not there when I needed it.Â As a teen I felt there was no one who I could go to for help and maybe that is why I still harbor the suicidal tendencies today (one portion of the pie anyway).Â I think it is harder for me to hurt myself now also because I have kids (even though young adults) and I know it would hurt them.Â So I feel trapped inside my aged, obese, ugly body.Â I have no special talents or skills.Â I cannot concentrate clearly, nor can I speak smoothly.Â I stutter or forget words.Â Have for a long time.Â I cannot come up with quick come backs sooner than 20 minutes.Â I have been unable to succeed in anything I do that can potentially improve my life.Â I am not happy.Â I have nothing to show for in my life.Â My life has just been turned upside down and everything is awkward, foreign, and scary.Â I am really tired.Â I am tired of my useless life.Â I have stopped taking all of my various medications (blood pressure, thyroid, diabetes, depression, and some others) because why take something that will keep me alive if I don’t want to be alive.Â I can already feel my blood pressure spiking…..169/113.Â Â I don’tÂ think itÂ will kill me though causeÂ I am never that lucky.Â I will pull out of this but death will always be on my mind.
Well, I finally found my first relationship, at the age of 26. It really did help me to find peace. It’s actually been really nice to have the first time in my life, and I mean this entirely literally, that I didn’t think about suicide every single day. It slowly drifted back, a little, but only just barely, and only just a few time every couple of weeks or so. It hasn’t been terrible. I have realized some things, that I had already considered, but I am far too old a soul for all these senseless children. My boyfriend, and just for the sake of clarity, I am bisexual, and my current relationship is “homosexual”, but he has a severe inability to communicate effectively. This being only the most difficult of his flaws.
I don’t begrudge him his flaws. We all have them, and I have worked hard to be patient and understanding. I have always been very straight-laced and followed all the rules. He, however, is so like the youth these days, smokes week, drinks, parties, lives without any cares in the world. He is financially responsible and stable, but he has no sense of being an adult in a world of adults. He only knows how to live this “spontaneous”, time-wasting life. Don’t get me wrong, my time is not much more well spent, but I am good at keeping a schedule, whereas, he is just incapable.
So far, you see these ridiculous, small problems, but I promise, this is going somewhere. This all becomes a real shit storm, when you take into account the fact that he hasn’t come out, and doesn’t really plan to. I am trying to be patient, and let him have his time. I am concerned though, because he is 22, and has been in several relationships, the longest being a 2 year on again, off again, amounting to roughly 4 months total. I am literally his most stable, nearly longest relationship to date, but the truth is, I don’t think he wants to come out. I don’t mean as a bisexual, or that he has a boyfriend, but as being in a relationship at all. He doesn’t seem to know how to not be single. He doesn’t seem the want to be anything but single. His family and friends are not the kind of people that he should fear coming out to. He just doesn’t want to have it conflict with his life. I should have realized this, he did say that he started the dating thing because he was “bored”.
I am no fool, I know and knew all of this. The fact is, he really isn’t sure what he wants. He wants both, but thinks that he has to choose one or the other. He doesn’t know how to make me part of his life. I saw all this coming, I suppose. It is just my first relationship. Kind of pathetic that it took me until 26 to find one. There are many things ‘wrong’ with me, because I am not a ‘young’ person. I never was. The youth in this age are more stupid than any other time in history. At any other time in history, they would have learned responsibility, and empathy, and punctuality, but not this day and age.
The worst thing, I have been thinking about other people as potential mates, even the last person that I had unrequited love for. A person that, I work with, of course. It’s very self-sabotaging. I am a hopeless romantic. I know what a relationship takes. I know the commitment it takes, and I am not going to give up, because of a few rogue impulses, but I don’t think he, nor any other person my age understands true commitment. Not any person that would have me. I guess, I should mention the fact that we had alternate work schedules and he is busy for the most part on the weekend, so we hadn’t had much time together. However, he did just change his schedule to match mine, which comes into effect on Monday. Now, the real problem, he tells me I am only part of the reason for the change. So the real question is, did he care that he would have more time for me? Who knows? I don’t.
I can wait and see, but the real issue is that I am looking to settle down with someone. I don’t have a lot of time for these games. I have known what I want, and I have been prepared for a long lasting relationship for a long time, but I don’t think it exists. I don’t think that my one reason for life actually exists. He did say he wants to pursue something long term with me, but he has to wake up and smell the flowers, he has to make room for me in his life…. PERIOD.
I have a very different set of beliefs when it comes to life and our reason for being here. I am a reincarnationist, and I am pretty certain, if for no other reason than my unusual maturity, my sage-like advice, and my personality that seems unaffected by nature or nurture, that I am a very old soul. Every day, I look at the childish nature of the world, and I think more and more that I am too old, and they are all too young. I have always had a billion ideas, and my mind never rests. Even in my sleep, it races on, in the form of deep, complex dreams, of which I can have many in a single night. They seem to be more unique than those of anyone else I have compared them to, and with such vividness.
The fact is, I feel that I am one of a few that has to do something to fix all these problems in the world. Of course, I would need help, as I am but one man. However, there is no help, and I really don’t care much about the world that has treated me so poorly. I was bullied as a child, mostly emotionally, by members of all parts of my life, from school to home. But I grew, I have always been strong, I wanted to make the world a better place. One where no one suffers as I have. However, I also needed that mate. It might be foolish to find someone to make my life complete, but the reality is that I have this whole where love usually goes. They say that you should find happiness in yourself, but the fact is, you do, absolutely, need love from at least one person. Love is a NECESSITY, to human beings. No matter how many psychologists and psychiatrists tell you otherwise, the fact is, you need it. It’s like purpose, and maybe that’s what it is, but without purpose, life loses worth. It has happened to a majority of people in places like the US, where we aren’t given a sense of purpose and souls without it are so empty. I see it in the eyes of so many people, like most of my coworkers. They just do things, because they are supposed to, and because they have nothing better to do. Some of them, the married ones have that love. I think it gives us that same sense of purpose.
For me, I have always lived to have a family. Not because of some biological urge. It is just the thing that I find most fulfilling, outside of all those sexual urges, and hormonal forces. It’s all I ever wanted. Just before I met my boyfriend, I came to a point where I stopped caring. I literally stopped. Even now, I still don’t care as much as I once did. And while it has made life so much more bearable, it is also a double-edged sword. If I decide I want to die, there is so much less there to keep it from happening. There is no reason for me not to die if I can’t find a mate. I was going to do these great things. I don’t care as much. Humanity will die out, and that is as it should be. I am so angry and calloused now.
The funny thing, and possibly worse than suicide, is that I would love to be the one who brings about the end of humanity, if I cannot find my mate in a timely manner. Assuming, that my bf is not the one, which, let’s be honest, seems likely. It’s been a long time since I honestly, and truly considered suicide, and I forgot how it felt. I really, truly want to go and buy a gun. Luckily, way too late for that. It’s irrelevant anyhow, I won’t, yet. As long as I have something worth fighting for, I suppose I have no real reason to eat a bullet.
If it happens again, I can’t tell anyone like last time. It just has to be spontaneous. I will not go to a hospital. Oh well, we shall see how things go. I need to attempt to get sleep. I don’t really know what else to do, since everything just became so infinitely pointless. I have zero ambition at the moment. Goodnight.
idk what to do anymore. ive tried meds and everything i can think plus somethings from family but its not helping. i feel worse each day more then the last. i feel like im drwoning in my own mind and it scares. for the first time in my life im scared and pleding with tears in my eyes for an anwser but nothing reveals itself and when i go looking i meet by dispair and unimportance. ive been thinking of ending it all and just letting go and i know it would be easy but idk. everyday i think about what is happening to me and i realize that nothing is going to stop it except ending it all. my mind is going and im starting to break down.
So I’ve been suicidal for a long time, I usually get this way after someone has treated me badly and made me feel worthless. I attempted the first time when I was 17. I have been struggling for the past year and a half not to kill myself, I’m 24 now. Sometimes the urges were almost overwhelming.
For the first time in my life I started talking to my dad about how worthless I felt. He held me and I was able to cry for the first time in five months. I cried on him for five hours, cried so hard I broke out in fever and had to sleep for a day and a half afterwards. I feel a lot better and a lot less suicidal knowing that I can talk to him and he tells me kind things in reply. I even am thinking that I will not die of suicide now.
I had a best friend a year and a half ago and I could tell him everything and he understood everything and he was going through some really bad things and I helped him out so much. He knew a lot of people who had died. I know that a lot of people that I know would probably find a way to get over me if I died. Friends would move on and stuff, yanno? My family doesn’t do a lot of stuff together, nothing really. But he had known a lot of people who had died and so I promised him that I wouldn’t kill myself because of him, because I didn’t want to be another death that he knew of. That gave me a lot of strength.
He was a diagnosed sociopath. He could cut off all his emotions when he wanted and so he threw me out one day, after all the stuff we had been through, like a year later, just stopped talking to me, and he wouldn’t care if I lived or died. I was scared for a while he would stab me. I felt worthless, beyond worthless. I know that it’s his fault and he is a bad person and all that, I know that in my mind and that, I guess he was lying or faking emotions or they were real emotions but they he just blocked them out; I know it wasn’t my fault. But I…
Who would really know or care if I wasn’t alive? Would it really make that big a difference? “If would make a big difference to you.” No, really. It wouldn’t. I don’t care. I would have so much less to deal with. I feel like I had a best friend who I could talk to and he was different I thought because he would care and like, my other friends, I think, they would get over it… he said he did care and that’s why I didn’t kill myself and now I see that… he doesn’t. He is insane, he’d probably sincerely not care at all. I don’t know I don’t have that same purpose. I don’t know why I’m alive. For my dad? To make things? To, what? To what? I can’t just live for that. Why do I do anything? What does it matter at all? I just, I felt better when I had a best friend who I thought I meant a lot to, who I could talk to and tell my little struggles to and successes to, who was nice to me, who I could talk to, who said he cared and everything. I feel like I don’t have a lot of ties. I mean. Whether I have a lot of friends or not, It’s not the same, yanno? I just. Want a reason for being alive. A purpose.
Sometimes when you make a mistake you have to live with it for the rest of your life.
It was 5 years ago, I was 14 when I quit school.
“If you quit right now you quit everyday for the rest of you life.”
That is what I did. I quit living.
I wish I could go back in time with the knowledge I have now. Everything would be different if I also had the strength besides the knowledge.
I would love to be the silent girl in class again. The one who seems to be depressed. I thought I was back then but looking back at it, it was the best time in my life and I miss it.
I terribly regret that mistake.
I’m too old now. I’m 19. Only 19 for most people. Already for me.
I’m burned out, faded away.
I can’t bring myself back.
As much as I’d love to I can’t go back to the past either.
I can’t go home.
Please cherish the time you spent in school, your youth. Even when you don’t like that time.
I’ve decided upon a solution to my issues that I find works better than counseling.
A) Because counseling pisses me off.
B) Because I find that all of the 9 or 10 counsellors that I’ve seen in the past 5 years or so have tried to make me conform to what society deems normal or happy.
My solution? Â Trying to be as true to myself as possible. Â I know it doesn’t exactly sound like a solution, or it sounds like a cliche one, but it’s been working so far. Â For me, this means that if listening to ‘depressing’ music makes me feel a bit of peace or happiness, then it’s perfectly ok. Â If I find myself enjoying being home alone all the time in a silent house, then it’s fine. Â I shouldn’t think these are bad things. Â Oh. Â And when I say listening to ‘depressing’ music makes me happy, I mean something like….it doesn’t make me feel depressed, but I’m not like laughing at the pain of other people and such. Â You know? Â This is actually extremely hard to write. Â It’s hard to be honest with my thoughts and feelings at the same time, and then put them down in words. Â A few months ago I started writing a journal for the first time in my life, and honestly, when I go back and read it some day, a lot of it will probably just sound like a normal teen trying to figure out who they are. Â And how to stay that person and be that person. Â I mean, sure. Â We all know who we are. Â We are ourselves. Â But is it really that easy to be yourself? Â No. Â It’s not. Â Agh I’m going off again. Â My main point is this: Â I am myself, I’m not going to let anyone else decide who I am, and I’m going to be as true as humanly possible to myself. Â This whole thing probably sounds like me being selfish, but sometimes we all need to step back, look at ourselves, realize we’re trying to be someone else, and then be a bit selfish by trying and going back to being ourselves. Â Not who people want us to be.
I can still remember that first time in my life when I thought to my self “is there actually a point of living?” at that point, I was in a right state. Didn’t have the best day of school, had so much going on in my life and everything was pilling up. I just got bored and tired of having to pick myself up from the ground and get back on my own two feet. I just didn’t see the point in it at all.
I remember that I kept thinking to myself ” There’s going to be no hope in the end, might as well end it now right?” I can tell you now that I was so close to jumping off and ending it all. I have no idea what it was but somehow, I turned away and started walking home. Still from today, I think its that i had no courage, or I was scared. The same thing happened about 3 times.
I turned to cutting instead and kept it as that. I needed a way to escape the pain. I’m not one of those people who can just explain everything to someone and expect them to understand. I like to keep it all to myself, I prefer to write it down and just keep it. Like what I’m doing now I guess?
Still from today i have no idea what I’m planning on doing?
I’ll just keep posting and see from there on I guess? I mean, what else can I possibly do for myself?
I feel empty. I thought I could be happy for a least a couple years before another tragedy came my way; but I
guess I was wrong. Five years ago on November of 2007 was the one month of my life where i was truely and completly happy.
I had my family, health, love, and my first love. Everything was great until December when my youngest sister passed away
caused of a drunk driver. From that day until today I wish it had been me instead of her. My family went through dark times. The day
of the accident, an hour before the events I had an arguement with my youngest sister. It went out of control and I yelled at her that I wished she was never born and that I hoped she died. that I will always regret, be ashame of, and never forgive my self for. She passed away before I could ever apologize.
Oct/2009 the person who I had sincerely given my heart and soul to, that I trusted with all my heart, he left.
He cheated, lied, exited my life with no explanation. I felt my heart shattered into pieces, I felt like i could never in
my life love again. I felt like i was going to die from sadness.
OCT/2011 I married a man who help me fix my heart, a man who respected me, adored me, wanted me, one who
filled me with life,hope, and love.
July/2012 It was all a lie, the happy life he gave me was all a lie. He cheated before our wedding, and lied ever since. He fooled me into marrying him. He betrayed me, and pretended to give me something that was never there.
Today: I feel like, for a second time in my life I had reached full happiness,
until bliss was snatch and robed from me, again. I dont know what to do, think or say; I feel empty, shocked, and want to disappear.
I am a person who has destoyed so many people throughout my adult life.Â I met my husband and he was married at the time, I got pregnant.Â He did not have a good marriage, or so I was told.Â He left his family for me, and we had our baby.Â Â He still had his family, and his children came around at first, but that ended rather quickly.Â So we had another baby a year and a half later, and we had our family.Â His parents did not want anything to do with us, which I completely understood.Â I was hurt, because I was lied to.Â So I raised two children thinking I was going to make the best of it.Â When my children were about five and four, my mother got very sick and died.Â A year later my father died too.Â It was a very traumatic time in my life.Â I needed support, and my husband turned to drugs and ended up losing his job. I was the sole income of the family, and wanted to keep my life together.Â I went back to school while working full time and got my BS and got a good job.Â Meanwhile, while my marriage was falling apart, I met a wonderful man at work who “knew me.”Â He knew what to say, and how to make me feel that I was love and how I meant something.Â He mede me feel like no other person had ever done before.Â Oh yeah, did I mention that he was married?Â Well, because I did not want to hurt my children, I stayed in the marriage, and kept up the affair.Â After all, that’s all that I’m good for, somebody to have sex with, say what you want, and then go home and live your life.Â Well, we were “together” for a few years and I wanted to be together with my lover.Â He would not budge.Â I told him that I would give up everything for him, but his children were too important.Â He still meant the world to me, because I thought that was all that I could get, and all that I deserved.Â Well then I met someone else at work, who is ten years younger than me.Â He was a freind at first, then we just clicked.Â I did not want to start anything, but he kept flirting with me, and I even told him that it would not work.Â Oh yeah, he just got married a year earlier and I knew his wife.Â Needless to say, we had a started a great relationship, and had an affair.Â His wife found out, she left him….I destroyed another marriage…………..he is still with me, but IÂ am so desperate that I put up with anything.Â He said that everyone that he knows, they know who I am and that I destoryed his life.Â So, I have yet to meet his family and his friends.Â I feel horrible about everyting that I have done, I don’t know why I am a magnet for married men, I seriously want to die.Â I hate myself for what I have done…for all of the pain I have caused.Â I feel that I am a good person, I have accomplished a lot through my academic career, and as far as my life, I feel so inadequate.Â I put up with being not worth anything…why would anyone want to introduce me to their family…after all, I broke it up.Â I deserve to be gone, and hope that I have enough strength to do it.
I almost cracked in front of my entire family. Or i did crack, partially?! I don’t know.
i started rambling about not having a desire to live, honestly i just said that to shut them up because they were talking about responsibilities of today’s youth and how it was different and much harder when they were young. Fine it was, let them have their past but keep it for yourself because i am not feeble- minded.
I thought i won’t be coming here anymore, but i guess i still have the need. since i can’t talk to anyone, i mean i can’t talk how depressed i am and there so little happy time in my life now. It s not that i don’t want to live, i really do want to have something that will keep me alive, at least i wanted to somewhere in the Â deepest parts of my possibly sick mind.
I was close of sharing this story with my mother, my grandmother or to some of my friends. Because this is the sign that i really want them to help me. But than i asked my self how? I don’t won’t to worry them with these things anyway, i mean i am only going to make it worse. i don’t want to disappoint them anymore, that is the classic story. I can solve it by myself, i ll try, i ll give my best to sort my self out. Until now i already learned not to cry, can you believe it i can’t cry. I simply see it as a sign of weakness that s all and now i learned to control it.
It seems i am able to control myself in my emotional breakdowns more carefully. But it doesn’t mean i can get rid of the desire to die, it s always there,silent but strong pushing me step by step to the edge.
If i don’t manage to find the new me in the next few months i am going to finish this for good. At first it won’t seem like the best for the people around me but there are so many good things that would come out of my death. I only feel sorry for the expenses of the funeral,but i maybe find the way to take care for that too. Yes i am selfish but, that would be my last selfish performance on this world. and i would finally do something i am completely certain i want to do. The only thing that makes me smile when i think about it. i am dying to explain my family and friends how i really feel and who i really am,but i don’t think i ll be able to do that.
its two days away from my 21st birthday,i dont have any body,noone to celebrate it with,or go out to diner or lunch, just me and myself,what the fuck happened,i want to die so bad,im not gonna kill myself,whats the point if noone would care if i was dead either,you know when you once had such good memories that you cant even think about it,cause it kills you,and you didnt mean to ever ruin anything or hurt anybody,you were just young and damaged and screaming out for help,and nobody helped you,but it was ok,i was in a group home but i was actually happy for the first time in my life,almost 19 years old,and they say,move on, but its like rock climbing,if you dont have a higer rock to grip on to ,the you cant let go until you do,and i dont have shit