well, unfortunately, not a single soul truly cares about me. i need to understand that. that the only one who cares about me, is me.
i’m not sure why, but i have this weird feeling that i won’t grow to be old. i mean, i can’t imagine myself living until i’m, what, ninety?
I’m fine. Or actually I’m not. Well at least I’m here. Is it better to be here, alive and in pain, than being dead and in no pain?
I just woke up and the dreams I have are better than reality. That’s why I sleep for a long time. Sleep is my friend. I want to sleep all day. Just lie in my bed without needing to think about anything.
You’d think writing about it would make it feel a little bit better. Maybe it does for some people. Unfortunately I am not like some people.
Now you may be wondering what is causing this pain. Well it’s just that I majestically screwed up with a girl I like. Okay maybe not majestically but close.
And now you’re probably thinking “all this over a girl? Are you stupid? There are others who are in worse pain than you. Yet you complain about a girl!?” To that I answer, yes, yes and yes.
I’m going to call the girl I liked Lily and her friend Zoe. And I’m going to call myself Ryan. This is not my/their real name(s)!
Anyway, it all started back in 2012 when I changed to her school and to her class. I liked her and I knew she liked me by the way she looked at me and how many times I saw her looking at me. But why didn’t I say anything to her? I wish I knew. Maybe I was scared of being rejected. Maybe I was scared of my friends teasing me about it. Or maybe I just didn’t know what to say.
Gosh, I’m such an idiot..
However, in the beginning of June I started thinking a bit more about how to approach her because after summer we go to different schools. Still in the same town, though.
But no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t find the courage to ask her out. I didn’t even talk to her. All I did was looking at her. Just like she looked at me. And at one occasion when we were forced to dance for some dumb reason, I heard her friend Zoe say “Oh, you two lovebirds should dance.” Lily then quickly said “shut up!”
I tried to pretend like I didn’t hear it. Even though they were right next to me..
I wish I could rewind time.. If I could I would! Then I’d talk to her and finally ask her out. I can dream, can’t I?
One very important thing I noticed back in 2015 was that we got a new teacher and she wanted to get to know us better so she told us to work in pairs and interview each other i.e. ask each other what we liked and what we disliked. When we were done the guy I was with said everything I liked and disliked. Then I said what he liked and disliked. But when it was time for the girl Zoe was working with I heard her say “…and she likes Ryan.” I was like “did I just hear that?” I wasn’t really paying too much attention to what they said but I swear they said my name. Also my teacher looked at me with a half shocked expression when she said that. I started to think about whether they meant someone else or not.
But couldn’t stop the feeling that they meant me. However I just told myself that I probably heard wrong or something like that. After that day I started noticing Zoe looking at me but when I looked back she quickly looked another way. I told myself that I was just imagining things.
There’s a tradition at my school where the eighth graders make dinner and desert for the ninth graders. It’s not really dinner actually but kind of. Anyway, so the eighth graders get to decide where we sit. And where do I sit? At the same table as Zoe and Lily. More exactly, Zoe is sitting next to me on the right and Lily two chairs to my left.
I notice Zoe playing a little bit with her hair and some times when a girl does that it means she’s close to someone she likes. When I noticed that I thought “huh that’s strange. I wonder if she likes the guy on her right. Nah, probably not. Then maybe she likes me?” I knew that would be a problem because if she likes me but I like Lily, I feel like it might get awkward if Lily and I were to go out some time and maybe become a couple. Then maybe Zoe would get sad or mad at me or Lily.
And honestly I don’t want to ruin their friendship. I’d prefer seeing them both being happy rather than one being happy and the other one sad. Even if it means not going out with Lily.
But.. I really needed to know if Lily liked me or not. So on the 13th of June I asked Lily out. I know I said I’d rather see them both happy but I just had to know if she actually liked me or not. I asked her over Snapchat and she replied “I’ll think about it :)))”. I had no idea how long she was going to think about it so I just waited. On the 14th I got no answer. So on the 15th I asked her again but this time she said “Not the way I feel right now. Sorry.” I said “Oh, okay it’s fine.” I got a little bit sad but tried to think about other things.
Two weeks later I asked her again. This happened today. I asked her if she was doing anything special this Wednesday. She said that she was going to play golf so I asked her if she was busy on Thursday. But I felt like she was going to say no so I wrote “You want me to stop asking you, don’t you?”. She replied “I kind of said no before. Sorry.” Then I replied “Oh right. Sorry. I’ll stop.”
If I had just talked to her while we were going to the same school she would’ve maybe said yes. This is what I get for being stupid.
It hurts when I re-read this. I want it to be over. Not everyone belongs in this world.
Thank you for reading this. I’m going to sleep now and I’m going to sleep a little bit longer than I usually do. Call it eternity if you will.
But this is what I want so don’t be sad.
Well, hello everyone..
I haven’t written on a site like this before but tonight I needed to tell someone, anyone before I explode. Just as an over view I’m an 18 year old in the grey as hell country of England on the south coast somewhere..
I have always been treated for one kind of mental health issue or another. My mom had me put through Dragonflies which is a kind of bereavement councillor when I was in year six so around 10 / 11 years old, I think she was hoping I was just sad when my grandad passed. Don’t get me wrong I was but that’s when people started to notice something wasn’t right. When I was getting picked up on for not expressing my feelings I switched to the other extreme and the only emotion I had was anger, and I let it loose full force.
It peaked when I was in year 8, around 13 years old, I was in a fight Monday, isolation Tuesday (a type of punishment in my school – you sat in a chair facing the wall in silence for an entire school day with no breaks except an escorted toilet break) moody behaviour Wednesday then another fight come Thursday. They were always with guys too, considering I’m a girl it baffled my parents why it was always guys… I couldn’t tell them tbh
Anyway at this point I was put in a 1-1 anger management programme where he made me talk about what made me angry and nine times out of ten I couldn’t answer him, then one day I cracked and cried for the first time in a year. Then there was no going back, mood plummeted and it all went to shit. By this point I had argued with my mum beyond hope and moved in with my dad and step mum. I had to leave my little brother there, with our mother, who couldn’t be a parent if her life depended on it. Hes 17 now and bordering on anorexic and because social services messed up a year back I can’t do anything to help him apart from force myself round there every other weekend and try and take care of him. But now I can’t, I can’t take care of myself how am I meant to help him? I have always taken care of him. Our parents divorced when I was three, I learned to cook at 8, iron by 10 and could use the washing machine by 11. I took care of us but now I’m failing him.
I went to the doctors when my mood started to affect my college attendance, i couldnt get up in the mornings. They assessed me and concluded i was suffering with a stress induced sleeping disturbance, i was pulled out of one of my courses and managed to scrape through my second year. I had to go back for a third year bacause my grades werent good enough. Then i found i wasnt getting up, my motivation was gone and my sleeping patterns were which usually sparatic at best were now bordering on non existent with periods of insomnia and others where i wouldnt wake up for an entire day and i found that i really didnt care but my tutor in college began to get concerned and told me to go to the doctor again and see whether there was anything they could do about my sleeping disorder.
So I went to the doctors not long ago, explained the situation and she began to get thoughtful and she got me to do some tests, when I saw the questions I knew what the doctor was getting at “do you have little enjoyment” “how much would you say you think the world would be better” she was quiet when I handed it back to her, before telling my I was suffering from depression and anxiety not one or the other, not one with a little of the other. Both. She said i was petrified of failing my brother, my parents and college which was causing me stress and leading to a sleeping disorder. She said it would be hard, a never ending circle, dont sleep feel crap get stressed dont sleep and so on.. Then there is the typical love life drama. I knoe i am only 18 and i hope to god i fall in love again but heres the basics;
When I was 14 I met a guy, I’ll call him A for the purpose of this, and he seemed like a nice guy and he is, in some ways. We got together when I was 15 and had a messy relationship up until The month before my 18th birthday, ten months ago from when I wrote this. Without sounding bias i wasnt actually ever in the wrong as such, just my reations tended to get worse. He spoke to other girls inappropriately and I found out and we argued and split then got back together and he broke up with me randomly that only lasted a month then got back together and split again, as a brief overview the details of the hellish part of that relationship are my burdens to bare.. Point is I loved him more than anything and I still care about his happiness. I’m going to be honest now and I need you to not judge me before i have explained
We were at a house party and he was getting with some girl then it was time for us to all crash, it was some distance from our home so we were staying with friends. They went to bed together on the floor of the living room and started doing stuff (i found out he refused sex with the girl because he didnt have protection – told you he was ok occasionally) so the first guy that basically tried anything with me, I let him. And it went furthur than I would have let in my right mind, it was safe etc but i couldnt believe id done it. I spoke to him the next day and explained it was out of character and I don’t want that kind of reputation for myself but I feel sick constantly at the thought that I’m nothing to A. I understand he doesn’t love me anymore which is okay, things change, but the thought I’d allow myself to throw away what I believe to prove some kind of point, I’m just disappointed with myself.
Anyway now i hear he has had two close one night stands and he wont tell us, or well me, who the other one was. From how it sounds he hasnt had sex since me (something i can no longer claim, not that im exactly happy about it) but it bugs me that we havent got that close friendship anymore, he was a jerk most of the time but when he was lovely he couldnt be faulted.
Now my main issue is i cant care about anything. Its like a numbness has swept over me and i cant even get angry. Which for me is strange becausei wore my anger like body armour and used sarcasm like a sword but now i just cant be bothered to even try. So i cry and fall further. Not being funny but i have hit rock bottom twice and it feels like im sinking further than that but I don’t feel anything really. So at the moment i just paint a smile on my face for the world but hate the fact the one person that can see through that knows me better than myself (he constantly points out my little mannerisms to support when he says he knows something isnt right) doesn’t attempt to really see the chaos that is inside while acknowledging its there, a chaotic neutrality that hides the fact i feel like im dying , soffocting in a world that i really dont care about
Thank you for taking the time to read this. I am just a little bit lost in a big world that i cant even attempt to make sense of, not that i can be bothered that is
Okay, so here it goes. Im nearing an ultimate moral downfall now. Ive went from fastening belts on my neck or swallowing a couple of pills to straight forward assaulting myself. I entirely despise my whole life. Life has caused me nothing but pain and suffering. Each day I struggle to wake up properly cause theres just no reason to go on doing things people usually do at all. I have closed myself inside my cage. I dont usually talk, Im not socializing anymore. Been abused in school, first sexually when I was 13, then bullied and some physical violence too. Parents beat me up too sometimes and were very demanding, but the classmates were just awful. Thats when I started to cut myself. I slipped into depression, but went out of it. And then I got dumped and it all began again. I mean, sometimes Id rather crap my pants than get up. I dont eat, I dont drink. I faint, my mouth is all sticky. And when I do get better, I just sit in my room the whole time fantasizing about killing myself. I mean, I play a random sad song and just go on for hours. How Id kill myself, where, why, with what. And that, besides making myself puke or starving, occupies pretty much my whole day. Diagnosed now with borderline and bipolar, hell yeah like I didnt know Im screwed up beyond fucking repair. I hate therapists, theyre aint gonna change anything. I have a a sense of failure, Im the only one who hasnt gone to university, I got kicked out of school, I dont work and I have approximately no friends. Im just so fucking tired of it. Cutting helps only for like several minutes. Drinking – for one day. Basically every single thought in my brain causes me pain. Its like everything grew fucking hostile on me. Id pull at my hair and scream, and rock back and forth when no ones watching. My parents are tired of my shit, my grandmas tired of my shit, everyone. I have absolutely no desire to go on, and nothing to live for. Even my so called boyfriend is busy not giving a fuck about me. Oh, and these random calls from my uncle in USA who sees my statuses and pretends he cares. Well, roflmao.
So lately Ive been fully occupied with suicide. And I have a brilliant idea. Since someone just messaged me that I broke the rules by descriptions Ill just say Ill drug myself, tie myself up and jump off a bridge.
I just want to die so fucking much. I wish Id just expire. Please, let me off myself. I cant take it no more.
Die die die die die die
And here are 100 reasons to keep going.
A few might be similar to each other, but nothing’s perfect.
You should live:
1. Because you care about the world.
2. There’s a lot to live for.
3. You have dreams to fulfill.
4. Life eventually gets better.
5. You’re afraid of death.
6. Because you can flip your life around.
7. Because people need you to live.
8. Because someone out there loves you.
9. For religion.
10. To help someone worse off than you.
11. To find the perfect job or career.
12. To fall in love.
13. Because there’s a reason we’re on this planet.
14. You want to experience future music, movies, games, technology, cars, buildings etc…
15. You want to make an impact on the world.
16. Food, pleasure, and comfort.
17. To enjoy beauty and art.
18. To mature.
19. To learn more about people.
20. To earn money and rewards.
21. Vacations… To explore and travel the world.
22. To create something of value.
23. Because our bodies are designed, programmed, and hardwired to live.
24. To experience good and bad.
25. To finish the story.
26. To party and have as much fun you can.
27. Because you are responsible for people (and/or pets).
28. You have goals.
29. You enjoy being happy.
30. Because you love doing something (i.e. playing games, exercising, cooking)
31. To find your niche.
32. For your friends.
33. You don’t want to be a ghost yet.
34. Because opportunities are coming your way.
35. For moments that take your breath away.
36. You want to carry out your destiny. (Whatever it may be.)
37. There is someone you want to meet.
38. Because everyone else is living.
39. To share wisdom with a younger generation.
40. To strengthen and help others reach their potential.
42. To experience change.
43 To become a better individual.
44. To prepare for death.
45. Because you’re obligated to live.
46. To surmount an obstacle.
47. You want to do everything on your bucket list.
48. Because you’re supposed to leave your mark on the world.
49. The pleasure of success.
50. You love yourself.
51. You love your life. Even when things aren’t going well.
52. To see if there’ll be world peace.
53. To see how strong you are and how strong you can become.
54. Because life really is good.
55. It’s your duty as a human to live.
56. For thrill and adventure.
57. Because you’re too young to die.
58. For addictions. (The good kind I hope.)
59. To beat your rivals and those who ever doubted you. Show them who’s boss.
60. To make others laugh.
61. Maybe to get revenge on someone.
62. To finish collecting something.
63. Because there’s so much you haven’t done yet.
64. People are believing and counting on you.
65. That feeling after making someone else’s day.
66. For the little things (driving, getting some air, walks on the beach, grocery shopping, etc…)
67. To recover.
68. Because it’s not time to die yet.
69. You want to set an example.
70. Because no one else can breathe for you.
71. Because life is short.
72. To make more memories.
73. To prove your worth as an individual.
74. Because you want to enjoy and make the most of your life.
75. To serve your country.
76. To give love and hope.
77. Because you can!
78. To be better than you were yesterday.
79. Because there’s no one else like you in the world.
80. Because you belong here.
81. Because the world is your oyster.
82. Because your parents and guardians wanted you live.
83. To leave behind a legacy.
84. Because you want to figure out what life is all about.
85. You like a challenge.
86. Because you are unimaginably amazing.
87. Because you only get one life. Once it’s gone, it’s gone.
88. You want to contribute to society.
89. To pursue happiness. And love.
90. Because you’re important.
91. For moments that make you laugh.
92. Because you have boundless potential.
93. You don’t need a reason to live.
94. To give what you owe to the world, a god, or an individual.
95. Why not live?
96. Because you’re someone people would look up to.
97. You’re supposed to live. That’s why you have a life.
98. Because you’re loved even when it seems like you’re not.
99. Because there’s no logical reason to kill yourself.
100. You don’t want to die.
- Because there’s always something or someone worth fighting for.
Feel free to share this, but don’t forget to mention me…
To be honest with you, I don’t remember the first time I did it. I never really cut at first.. It was more like scratching. I used to get my key and scratch my arm with it. It hurt… That was all I wanted at the time. That began over a year ago.
Why did I do it, you may ask..? Well I felt so helpless, I had no control over anything in my life and I thought that it would help, but it was more than that too! I felt numb. Nothing made me feel anything, but when I scratched myself, I felt pain… And I deserved to feel pain.
Everything was my fault. My parents’ divorce, my sister dropping out of college, my best friend getting pregnant… All my fault. After everything I’d done, I deserved to suffer. I deserved to feel pain andÂ only pain.
But it got to a point where just scratching my skin wasn’t enough… I had to bleed. I had to use a knife. I remember the first time I did that. It was the start of the school year. I rememberÂ why too. Â Being a redhead, naturally I get a lot of abuse for the colour of my hair. You’d think after fifteen years I’d be used to being calledÂ ginger. But that day it irked me more than usual. It wasn’t just the word… I’m fine with the word… It was the way it was said. It just made me feel so worthless. Like because of the colour of my hair, nothing about me matters. So that night while I was sitting on my bed crying while questioning life, the universe and everything, I opted to use a knife rather than a key.
And it was liberating.Â
That night I learned just how sadistic I really am. As soon as I made that first cut, my tears stopped. I was in awe… The sight of blood had been what I was really craving. It was amazing. I loved it. I loved how it felt to be in control.. I loved how the knife felt in my hand. I loved how the blood dripped down my arm. I loved every second of it.
Soon I became completely addicted. Almost every night I would mutilate my arm. A smarter person would have chosen the thigh, or somewhere easier to hide, but that was the least of my concern at the time. I didn’t care where it was because I didn’t want to live.
Months later I stopped. But it didn’t last long. I did it again. And then I stopped. And did it again. Stopped. Again.
Needless to say… IÂ can’tÂ stop.
It’s my drug.
I need it.
But I’m not as reckless as before. It’s not as often. Not as dangerous.
When i made this cut i was scared. I had just traded an ounce of weed for a brand new box cutter, a kid bought me from home depot. Stupid i know i could have got it myself but with your dad watching you every moment of the day it was kinda hard. I said it was for protection.. protection from my thoughts.. but he gave it to me. No other questions ask even knowing my history.
I went home a couple days past and then me and my parents got in a huge fight. With out even relising it i was slicing at my wrist. But then i cut to deep. I drop the box cutter adreniline racing throught me. I tried to breath but it was the first time i had ever gone this deep. My blood came out at a steady flow i put pressure. I wasnt aiming to die at this point.Â For once when i was cuttingÂ I felt OUT OF CONTROL!
I put pressure 5 mintues past i pulled the towel off to check my wrist i was still bleeding and the towl was soaked i layed down. Head pounding and my body cold i wraped a rubber band around my wrist with the towl on. I had no strength left in my hands to hold in on myself. I lay on the ground shaking, hoping my parents would wake up and find me. But they never did.. I woke up 3 in the morning laying in my blood. The rubber bands have done the trick after a while. I probally past out or fell asleep i dont know what happened first.
I cleaned my self by taking a shower then cleaned the floor, bandaging my arm. I went 3 weeks before i told my parents. This was cause it wasnt closing most of my cuts healed in 1-2 weeks. This one didnt heal for 5. After the doctors did a rock scrub to get all the dirt out of my cut they glued it shut.
When we got home my dad wanted to know what i had used to cut. I gave him a randomn pair of scissors.. and he DIDN’T question it.. HOW THE FUCK COULD I DO THAT WITH SCISSORS!
now 10 months later its a bright red scar. I keep my arms crossed to hide my hidous scars. I hate them.. and yet i still cut.
In my list of tools now i have
5 razors ( had 6 but my dad found one)
1 pair of scissors
1 box cutter
2 lighters ( ive never burned my self but i keep it incase cutting just doesnt work one night)
6 peices of glass ( from a glass i broke )
I also am always at the store buying a box of bandaids here. Gauze and other various things. Not to mention hand towels. Since i use them to help stop the bleeding. I cant wash them cause my parents would wonder so i just throw them away, and buy new ones. This is one of the storys i remember really well.. and i just thought i should share it.
.. Have i ever thought i’d get to this point no.. im only 14 why am i here. What did i do to deserve this. I guess this is the time i’d share my story right? Exsplain it all get it out, wipe my slate clean. But im sure none of you care to hear my story. So if you dont stop reading, its not gonna be a happy one.
I was 3 when my mom kidnapped me, she abused me every day tried to kill me once out of jealousy, cause after i was born no one gave her attention anymore. Great mom right? after my dad regained cusody i got a restraining order agaist her, now 10 years later she tries to act like she cares by sending my dad cards and presents for me since she cant technically get in touch with me herself.
2 years later when i was 5. Thats when my life should have ended, it would have been so much easier. My grandpa raped me, till the age of 8 when he died, i didnt know.. i though this was normal.. i trusted him i was only 5 , and the one person i trusted most.. betrayed me..
When i finally told it was after i found out about his death, actually that very same night, i asked to go outside with me dad and i told him. He looked at me in shock i thought he was crying cause he lost his father.. but now i know it was much more then that. My dad called the police i went to safe and sound ( a place for abused children) and they did everything they could. They said i should grow up fine. With no complications, that i seem to have no long lasting effects. My grandma (jean) disowed me calling me a liar she hated me.. never wanted to see me again. I wanted to die. I was 8 but i didnt tell anyone.
3 months later my brother raped me. One time, i told my grandma ( terry) she told me never to speak of it again it was our ” secret” i did just that till 6th grade.
I started cutting, learning it helped kids handle pressure at school. It hurt at first yet, but oddly enough after i felt better. It was like the blood took all the feelings i felt out. But i wasnt that lucky to get away with it. I was caught and they sent me to a counsler. We talked for a while before one day i admitted what had happened. Charges were pressed but they couldnt do anything at the time. So the case was closed. I didnt mind.. i just continued on with my life. Even after being diagnosed with Mild depression, and ptsd
7th grade middle of the year ( stopped cutting) we got a court order, they found evidence to help me pursue charges, i was scared yes, but they told me it would protect other girls like me. So foolishly i said yes.
To escape the pain of my passed we moved half way cross the country. I was sad to leave my friends but it was probally for the best.
When i went to my new school less then two months into i was sexually assalted. After class the boy wanted to talk to me i ran out cry i was terriofied “no more” thats all i could hear in my head. I ran into a friend i was sobbing at this point and i broke down telling her what he had been doing to me for the past two weeks. She promised not to tell but i was foolish to think she wouldnt if it was the other way around i would, so i dont blame her for that. They pressed charges and he admitted to the act, one less stress.
i then moved to another city away from the school. I got settled and was happy finally moving on.
October 2, 2011
I went to court agaist my brother. Everyone sat on his side of the court room. My other brother, mom, uncles, cousins, my dads other x-wife. Mocking me. My dad couldnt be there cause he was also testifying. So the only person i had on my side was my Childs Advocate, which honestly made me go through with it cause honestly i wanted to die. ( I was cutting again at this point and my depression was growing severe but i didnt tell anyone. )
I was on the stand for 4 hours, getting pounded with questions, crying, and just wanting it to end.
After it was over i got to visit an old friend, from my hometown and spend that night. I attempted suicide at her house. But when i was cutting ( i was cutting deep) she wanted to come into the bathroom i freaked pulling my pants up and stand up i was shaking and put a towel on the floor. She thought i was going to the bathroom ( two of my other friends were there) i stood up walking out and we sat their talking i stood not wanting to get blood on anything. Thats when my friend brittany noticed the blood at my feet that was trickling down my leg she dragged me into the bathroom. ” whats wrong” she asked “are u on your period” i kept shaking i couldnt tell her, i just wanted to dissapear. She knew my passed and she didnt hesiate when she pulled down my pants. She shall the cuts 10 of them 2 inches wide 2cm down. “how did u” she asks as she grabed paper towels to put pressure. I pointed to the closet where she found kaitlyns pocket knife that i had stole. I was so embaressed. Then kaitlyn called brittany in i was crying now, i didnt know what to do. It wasnt suppose to end like this. She shut the door holding down anger snatching her knife. “Jessica needs to get in here, she needs to go to the hospital” i tried to fight them from getting me in the car but i was to weak. When we got to the hospital i got 17 stiches. They let me go home and no one told my dad. My friends mom covered my bills. Im grateful.
I came home and continued cutting on november 3 2011 i was admitted into the hospital after another suicide attempt and more self harm. I was their for 7 days when they let me leave. I continued but at that point was diagnosed with severe depression, ptsd, and anxiety. So much for growing up normal.
Decemeber 12, 2011 i was back in the hospital 9 days this time suicide attempt and cutting. It angered me i was either caught or i chicked out. Why couldnt i go through with it!! I was released December 21.
On new years i attempted suicide by drinking rubbing achohal ( not a recommendation shit hurts and it hard as fuck to die) They didnt force me to go to a hospital
Febuary 7 2012 i was back in the hospital cutting again i got out on valentines day.
Febuary 16 2012, i had my first seizure they called psuedo siezures, theyre like eplilemptic but caused my anxiety and are oftened linked with ptsd. Around this time i tried to quit cutting, and my body wanted to release the edorphines and as they built up my body released it the convulsions.
I delt with it as kids bullied me and harrased me. The emo girl who has seizures, i hated school.
8 months later i quit cutting i was so happy i was going to counsluing, i was getting over my past adjusting.
I got into a serious realationship, only last a month but i love this kid, I want to marry him. He was everything i ever wanted. We got together semtember 5 2012 broke up october 3 2012. on the 4 i cut again for the first time in 8 months i felt weak.
November 28, 2012
I was sexually assalted as a freshman in highschool, by a senior foot ball player. Im currently in an on going case. Im cutting again, severe again. I wanna die and i just dont see the point in living, I hate it i feel like theres a target on my back. My dad found out i was cutting again this morning, he seemed hurt but we havent talked about it since. Im trying to convince myself not to cut tonight, but honestly i dont care. Everything seems worthless.
Thats my story in short i now take 22 meds a day and ive been diagnosed with
-multiple persanaltiy disorder
Quit Worrying About How You Look, it’s About Whats On The Inside!
i don’t care who you are. your beautiful and amazing in your own unique and special way, please don’t let what he/she says make you stop believing that. the people who hurt you most are the ones who usually are the closest to you…but don’t beat yourself up, and depress yourself with it, because they may have called you ugly. stupid. fat. etc..but only you can believe them..only you can take it to heart. only you can take it as far as it gets. You, are Your Biggest Enemy. free yourself from mental slavery, because only you can free your minds and make yourself happy.â™¥ so smile wonderful.(: because your amazing.
I hate my life so much. I am thirty-eight years old and I have never felt the warm touch of love before in my life. I literally have no friends and have not had a stricken of luck for 10 years. I have tried to take medicine, but it never works, it just makes me more angry. The thought of doing it satisfies me, but when it comes down to it I am pathetic and cannot do it. I haveÂ schizotypal personality disorder and I also see and hear things. Not only am I depressed, but I enjoy the sight of blood and I love physical pain. My only defense is to shut off my emotions and just be empty. The only thing I see out of myself is a coward and someone who is a danger to his self and others. I wish I could just end it right now… Â but.. i just can’t… I swear when I man up I will do it. I will…
Hi, I just wanted to share my story about suicide, which I did not commit, and since then have realized the importance of that decision. Everything does get better, I hope anyone who reads that are having thoughts about suicide will reconsider their decision.
The scars runs way down to when I was very young. My dad was a cardiologist and he came home every three days. Always being away from my dad made me frightened of him, although he was a great dad. I was a timid child and was scared of everything, I was told by grandparents that I cried at least twice a day. That is to my family of course, but to teachers and other students, I was considerably cold and detached, though inside, being talked to scared me out of my wits. I guess this is mainly because I rarely see my parents. My mom was in a similar field as my father, and although I see her everyday, she is always dog tired from her work and slept as soon as she got home. I guess you could say I was lucky, I had a nice family that could prove me of all my needs. Grandparents that spoiled me and gave me everything I wanted, though I rarely wanted anything at all. However, the person that mattered to me most at the time was my aunt, she was my life you could say. I felt alive when I was with her, being able to express myself shamelessly, telling her everything I wanted, and not shy away from her. She’s my mom’s sister and although they looked alike, their personalities were rather different. My mom was a beautiful and calm young woman, she was fun and everyone who met her will eventually like her. As for my aunt, she was more beautiful, and usually had many men around her, pursuing her, but because of her beauty, she had no interest in a relationship, and to others she was often hot tempered. To me though, she was every bit as patient as my mom, if not more. Well, my parents, for me decided to leave to a new place for me. Since my body was weak and the gas and air of a flourishing city did not suit me. We moved to a beautiful place, it is a city known to many, and maybe you will be able to guess. Anyways, I cried and cried, in tears day and night, I was young, about seven. I didn’t want to be away from anyone, and I didn’t like that I could no longer see my aunt in person. I felt stone cold, though for once, I had my parents. Maybe that was the only reason I was able to hold out and remain assertive at school, I felt like breaking, but knowing that it will be my mom waiting for me after school instead of a nanny made me happy beyond anything, though I still love my aunt more than anything. My time with my parents finally, for once made me feel like their children. Don’t get me wrong, my parents never neglected me, they were with me whenever they can, often taking breaks from work to stay with me. They know they have to stay with their child often, and that is probably one of the reasons they were willing to give up their jobs and family to move to this distant land. Eventually, that couldn’t last, despite of all the money they earned, it was enough buy a nice house and a nice car, and to live for a period of time, but they had to return to work. That part of my childhood was great, and I loved every minute of it. That is until my grandfather’s heart disease returned. My dad rushed back in haste, but my grandfather refused surgery at all cost, although the cost was no problem at all, the real reason is because my grandfather wanted to stop all the suffering, the fact of always knowing that whenever, wherever, he could die, anytime. The pain he is causing his children and wife probably stopped him from getting his surgery, especially his own pain. I loved him, but he passed on, he left us, and when he left, he took my grandmother’s soul with him. This meant my dad would not be able to return for a long time, he left his job to comfort his sister and grandma, while my mother was left to support me. He returned about a year later back to us, but by that time, I have already felt frightened and unstable enough to a point where I would just leave the house in the middle of the night when my mother fell asleep and just scream and cry at the trees. I started to show mild depression. My father went back to work and so did my mom. My conditions were becoming considerably better. By the end of elementary school, I have made many new friends. At the start of secondary school, I have already made up my mind on what I wanted to be, a surgeon. I knew that a becoming a surgeon meant hard work. So I locked myself inside my room all day to study, going to the library four times a day during lunch time to study. I lost contact of my friends mainly outside of school. Isolating myself from my parents, and my friends. Once in a while, my parents would force me to go to a friend’s birthday party, they were worried, and they knew I didn’t need to study that hard. Sometimes, when I didn’t want to study and learn things that I really didn’t need to know yet about the human body, I would just lie on my carpet and stare at the ceiling, thoughts racing through my head. Lying there for hours, if my parents weren’t home, maybe for a day. That was when my depression came back, and I knew it, I knew that I had depression, I knew that was the reason why I wanted to be by myself, that was the reason why I was thinking about horrible things about myself, and the reason that I made up stories inside my head to distract myself from those thoughts. Sometimes, I would think that people can hear my thoughts, and clear my mind completely, when walking by myself, I would think that people are following me. I wondered, was I becoming psychotic? I daren’t to find out, but merely continued my journey to self destruction. There were times when I lost the meaning of life, not even being able to cry anymore. Sneaking out late down to the trees behind my school to scream and cry no longer worked. Tears no longer staining my face. In fact, I felt completely detached from my body. Like my body was a lonely walking shell. That’s when I started the thoughts of suicide. First starting out when I was reading about it on the internet. I didn’t want to kill myself, I knew that my aunt would not approve of it, and I wanted to see her before I leave, I want to hug her one more time and tell her how much I missed her before joining my grandfather. I didn’t want to leave my caring parents, but I couldn’t carry on anymore. Every minute on this world felt like torture to me, cutting into my bones and strangling me, so that it became hard to breathe, hard to understand why I’m still alive. Hard to think anymore. I guess I was an excellent actress, Doing this since a young age, I appeared perfectly happy to my friends and family, and they suspected nothing. Once, I was hungry, so I came down stares to make myself some lasagna, since I liked lasagna and because I made it often for myself (my parents didn’t like it nearly as much as I did), I was quick. I was cutting up some things to put in my lasagna when I accidentally cut myself, it hurt. It was a deep cut, and at the time I wanted to bleed to death, maybe just die this way, and I was almost happy. But at the same time, I knew I couldn’t die from this cut. Nevertheless, this planted a seed in me. A seed to my downward spiral. I hid the knife in my bed, under the mattress, I never cut myself to convey my emptiness, but I hid the knife. I wondered when I would do it, and sometimes the thoughts would race through my head, but I wanted to see my aunt first, so I refrained. But I really wanted to just plunge the knife into myself, feeling the sweet pain draining life away from myself. It was a thought that made me happy. I convinced myself that my brother who was ten years younger could take care of my parents. So that it no longer mattered. Eventually, I realized it will be a year before I can see my aunt again. That thought, of waiting, for a year finally made me lose it. Once again, convincing myself that my aunt will find a husband, and she will have a own child that she will love. I decided that maybe I should leave, but I wanted my parents to know that I’m leaving. That one day, before going to sleep, I hugged both my parents, though it no longer really mattered to me, and I didn’t know at the time if they loved me or not, but it was just a ritual, something I felt like I should do. I didn’t like giving hugs, so I suppose they were both surprised. I looked at my brother sleep, he’s young, he’ll grow up, and he’ll forge me, that’s what I thought at the moment, ‘he doesn’t care anyways’. Dragging my feet to my bedroom, I knew what I was going to do in a few minutes time, and I felt something that was almost joy from my heart. Something that I haven’t experience for so long that I craved for that feeling. Perhaps it was by some miracle but my came into the room just as I was holding the knife and examining it, my face in her words ‘twisted in wrong ecstasy’. She saw me, and she froze, staring at the knife and to me, tears trailed from her eyes, and she sunk to the floor crying. My mother’s crying brought my father also into my room, my father, working in the hospital, knew what to do. Though perhaps it was the fact that I was his daughter that made him lose his calmness. He cautiously sat beside me and started talking to me. Neither touching nor looking at the knife in my hand. I will spare you of the gory details of that, but eventually I put my knife down, they asked me to sleep in my little brother’s room and asked if I needed my their company. Of course, I replied no, I knew that they were searching my room for my weapons. Which consisted of a knife in my drawer, a dagger, and a larger knife that I hid in my drawer. It was usually used to cut meat so that it was able to slice the bone in half. After that night, my parents took turns to stay with me, each staying home for a week, going to work for a week. Being discovered by them was the best thing that ever happened to me. Their support for me, their calm words and care settled me down. However, their ultimate gift to me was a vacation trip. In which I took unlimited time off of school to visit my family back home. So that I was able to see my aunt, my grandparents, and what remains of my grandmother. My grandmother was also suffering from depression, ever since my grandfather left, she was constantly trying to kill herself, usually by the form of wondering from the sidewalk on to the streets to make it look like an accident. She did that twice, with no success. After seeing my aunt, I finally realized something, she loves me. The way she held my face with her hands and smiling with tears in her eyes, the tears glided down her face and dropping at her pointed chin, even in tears, she was beautiful. I missed her, that moment I realized how much I missed her, and the detachment, the assertiveness, all the acting that have already pooled up in my container, the container that I tried to crash open that night, but thankfully failed, exploded. And I felt the excitement, the tension lifting off of my shoulders. And I suddenly noticed how clammy and cold my hands felt, how still my joints were, and how much I am capable of emotion. I went to see a psychiatric and my depression was confirmed, the recurrence rates are high, but I wanted to stay this way, to feel happy. As my days ran past, the happiness retained, but fear was always creeping behind me, the fear of returning to depression, something that I have felt, that have left, and that have returned with a vengeance. I wanted to remain sane, even it it was for a slight period of time. My psychiatrist said that it was miracle that I was able to recover so fast, but what goes up fast, will only drop back down faster. My parents never said anything during this time, they had to return after two weeks for work, they have said that I could return to them wherever I liked, or that I could stay with my aunt. That offer was tempting, but I knew where my future lay, and it was back at school, it was in the hospital, helping others, though I could barely save myself. I have, of course been keeping up with school work, sending my homework in an orderly fashion to my teachers, though the amount of tests that I have to take when I get back is depressing. I went back, crying on the plane for ten hours straight, thinking about when I might see her again, the woman that I love so. After returning to school, my parents kept a close eye on me, often forcing me to go out with my friends, telling me that I can go see my aunt wherever I liked. But, at the time, I was as close to as sane as I am now as possible and I rejected their offers, going to school, staying with friends, travelling with the school band, and opening to new opportunities. I realized the love of my friends, the bonds with them are important to me, how they care about me was incredible, something that I did not realize when I was in my stage of depression. Something that I would have thought impossible if you told me a year before that time. I realized, love, all sorts of love, not only between lovers, but between family, from friends, from teachers, and those that care. It is them that helped me back on my road when I was falling into my own destruction, their smiles and caring that led me to my life today. If I was not discovered that day, I would not be here to tell the tale. For my feelings at that very time was very complicated, my mind set. I know that perhaps if you do have suicidal thoughts this may seem impossible to you, but I wish you could believe, that love is the cure. I never took any pills for depression, my parents, who both were in the medical field understood the side effects of those pills, so I came out of it on full support. It was like being reborn back into this world, learning how to talk again, how to think, how to walk. I felt like a baby, to a toddler, and now to myself. Now I cherish life, I feel thankful for those around me, and my luck that kept me here. My grandmother, whom I have mentioned earlier, is still under the supervision of the family and her old friends, though suicidal thoughts are also gone from her, the fact that the person whom she loved most in her life is gone cannot be denied. That stage took me four years to step out of. Now, I feel lucky to be at where I am now. This story, clear of many details that I am sure you do not want to hear, is my story of depression. I just wanted to tell anyone, that feel like they are going to commit suicide. Of course, I was very lucky to have such a wonderful family that supported me every step of the way, and friends that gave me joy when I realized I could not. My parents that gave me life and saved me again from myself. My aunt, that gave new birth to me, so that I feel love for the real time since years. There are many aspects of my story that I do not wish to reveal, for although I have put those feelings and thoughts behind, I still feel disgusted that I have ever had any thoughts of them. Even if you do not have a wonderful family to support you as I had, I hope that you seek help, it is the people around us that are giving us this beautiful world, that are creating our love for them. Cherish them, for they will be the people that you hold above your own life.
My mom can get cancer again, and my dad left us without a home or money…I have no friends, my family wants me to go die…they all call me a demon…FUCK LIFE! I’m SICK of getting tortured and neglected by people who say they “love” me…WHATS THE MEANING OF LOVE??? LIFE??? I can’t live with this anymore…I”m DONE being the punching bag…I HAVE ATTEMPTED SUICIDE BEFORE…EVERYONE thinks I’m doing it for attention…EVEN MY THERIPIST…They tell me I’m a lying piece of shit…FUCK YOU! I’m only struggling! Why in the HELL would I fake this?! IT’S CALLED PAIN. My STEPDAD don’t give a FUCK about me…he treats me like shit! Everytime my mom leaves to do something, he calls me a ***** and once called me a **** because-OH!-I didn’t clean the basement. SPOTLESS. He bullys me. I’M SICK OF THE SHIT EVERYONE FEEDS ME! I’M DONE! GOODBYE.
I hAte my life. No one ever tries to listen and I feel worthless. I hVe nger problems and maybe depression and bi-polar. My mom tries to make it work between us but it always goes wrong. We fight everyday. She never Gets me help with my anger. Everyone gates me and can’t stand to be around me. I’m not trying to make them hate me I’m not saying mean things. I’m just being me. No one ever listens or even tries. The next gun I see im going to shoot myself in the heart or brAin! Which ones faster? My dad never wanted me. My parents didn’t even plan for me. I’m the middle child too. My dad told my mom he didn’t wAnt me before I was born. and to get an abortion. I have no reason to live. Everything I do I seem to ruin it.
for as long as i can remember, i’ve always been different from everyone else.
eventually i came to accept it; i basked in loneliness, despite the fact that it was “wrong” in the eyes of others. it was wrong to sit in my room alone. it was wrong to ignore others. it was wrong to not be like everyone else.
so i put up walls and i lived behind a mask for years. it was nearly perfect, as everyone bought into my lies. they believed that i was the person who i pretended to be.
yet one person knew.. he was the person closest to myself. he was my brother. he took pride in raping my mind.. changing my outlook on life.. everything. he destroyed me.
i was twelve when i first fought back against him. so, he beat me. from then on, i knew there was no god. i hated church. i hated life.
so, i tried to die. i took just a handful.. but after a minute, it all came back out. and i thought it was a sign, telling me to live on.
i grew to trust no one.. i lived through ages 13, 14, 15, 16 behind my fake identity.. i hated everyone.. i only played into their simple lives to amuse myself. but one day, i met the person who would change my life forever.
i was smitten, at the time.. two days later.. we were together.. and i knew nothing about her. she only spouted lies. her name, her age, her interests.. all lies. to think that the one person i ever opened up to was worse than everyone else was heart-wrenching. and then i refused to believe it.. i believed her.. i believed everything she had said, despite knowing that they were all lies.
they said.. “break up with her.” “get out before it’s too late..” but i resented them. little did i know.. that would be the most important piece of advice that i would ever receive in my entire life. slowly but surely, we got “closer.” and i was aware of everything. she was seeing other guys, she never told me her real name, she couldn’t be trusted, she was scum..
i disappeared for twenty-two days. i left home.. everything. it took a while, but i was finally able to put my mask back on after that period of isolation.. i was written off with “chronic stress,” and i was instructed to visit a shrink three times a week.
three became four.. until it became seven. i loved my shrink.. we wrote down our stories and exchanged them, hour after hour, day after day. she was the only hand that plunged into my world, and i held onto it for dear life.
i eventually met with my girlfriend again. i knew she was seeing other guys, and that she was talking behind my back, but i didn’t say a thing. i never called her out on her lies or her infidelity.. or anything. till the very end, i played the role of the naive protagonist. “your name really isn’t alice is it?” was my closure. or so i thought.
i was fine for the first two weeks. and then i began seeing things that reminded me of her. whether it be something small like her name in a textbook, or something big, like a place we used to go to together. my closure was not complete, and she haunted me. i grew restless.. unable to think.. maybe even insane. then i found a way out.
through weed and alcohol, i was able to escape everything that bothered me. i depended on the two until it became a necessity. i realized that i didn’t need my shrink anymore, i just needed more to drink, so i stopped all contact with my her. i stopped going to class. and i spent more and more time getting drunk and high.
it always seemed like everything was alright when i wasn’t sober. unfortunately, my tolerance increased, so i moved on to harder drugs.
i was spending day after day getting fucked up so that i wouldn’t think about my ex, my paranoia, my stress, my addiction, my depression, and anything that was going wrong. my spending had reached upwards $1000 a day, until my parents pulled the plug on it. they didn’t bother asking why i had spent so much money. they were just angry that i had spent so much. they don’t even care anyway.. since i was born, every fucking christmas.. birthday.. new year.. all i got was money. they hated spending time with me.. so as soon as i was a teenager, they split. they were never home in the first place.. as if it’d make a difference now.
addiction kicked in soon after. i was laid up at home by myself and i didn’t know what to do. i was so lost.. and i just wanted to visit the one person who ever listened to me. i got to her office and i asked for an appointment. she refused me. but i begged and begged until she finally let me in. i tried to tell her everything, but once i told her about my addiction she told me to leave.
“i don’t help criminals.”
i didn’t kill anyone. i didn’t rob anyone. i didn’t steal..
it’s been five days. everyone i’ve asked for help has turned their backs on me. humans are so selfish. everything they do is for self-gain. they don’t help others because they just want to save time. or they want to help others just because it makes them feel good about themselves.
last night, i finally realized what it was like to be pushed beyond the edge. the hopelessness, the loneliness, the disregard for health and life itself, the apathy for anything and everything.
i realized that i don’t need to cry for help anymore since no one is going to come. i’ve lived my life incorrectly, but i’m no longer going to sit around and cry about it. this life will not have been for naught.
instead, i’m going to use what i’ve learned in my next life by becoming just like everyone else: selfish, untrustworthy, and evil. the idea is unlikely.. but at this point, anything is better than living in this life.
if i am not reborn, it will be even better. i’ll never have to see anyone ever again.
Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Everything hurts. The secrets I can’t tell anyone, and no one cares at all. Who do I turn to? How do I say the words to someone, someone I trust, that is going to make them understand? Who would I tell? WhoÂ can I trust? How do I get even one minute with them only three days before school is out? I’m going to die this summer. I don’t know what else to do. I can’t stand my life anymore, my mind… I have secrets that are killing me, literally. I’m going to die because I can’t take knowing the things I know. And even if I did summon the courage to tell someone, I’ll just hate that someone knows something about me like that who won’t be around forever. What do I do? And why can’t I find any answers? This hurts. The emotional pain is merging with the physical side of me, and I can’t stand it anymore. What other option is there for relief other than death? I have to die. I just hope suicide really won’t send me to hell.