Apologies are so fucking devoid of meaning after being repeated so many times.
Sure some people can’t help doing that, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to accept it as any more meaningful than saying “cabbage” over and over.
And it just keeps going on, and endless stream of “I’m sorry” and I have no desire to accept it because it’s only a repeated recording of the same words being felt on the same tongue, a reflex reaction.
The action of saying the word doesn’t negate the hurt and the pain. A statement isn’t valid unless there’s some intentional thought and feeling behind it. Apologies are wasted on me for the most part because I’m going to find the hurt intentional most of the time. Accidentally stepping on my toe is one thing. Pushing me away is another.
Of course I can’t always have my guard up when people directly say things to me in order to incite a reaction. I leave my guard down because of trust. I put it back up when that trust is ignored.
It’s always people. I’m so tired of people. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me more than enough times and I’m going to stop trying.
I’m done. Done believing what people say to me. Done trusting. Done being manipulated by my own feelings because others hurt them. These aren’t empty words. I’m so fucking finished.
I feel like I’ve been discarded way too often is all. Like I’m only good temporarily. A toy, forgotten. That’s how I view myself.
I like making people feel awful for making me feel awful. I relish in schadenfreude sometimes.
And then I feel guilty.
And then I don’t.
And it keeps going and going. On and off.
I hate this.
I’m actually really sick and tired of people telling me that I’m a strong person.
Like, I’m actually really hating it right about now.
Like the whole “you’re so strong and you’ve made it this far you can make it through” kind of thing.
I mean I’m thankful for the support but I’m sick and tired of being told by people that I’m strong.
I’ve been told this for a while now and it’s like uh what’s that supposed to prove? I’m strong so this suffering I’m feeling is going to go away. Well most suffering eventually leaves. That’s a given. It goes on. I know that. It WILL get better EVENTUALLY.
To tell me to be strong because it’ll eventually get better is stupid. Wether I’m weak or strong or average, it’s going to change. Things may improve. But things may not improve. Maybe they’ll get worse. You can’t fucking tell whether things are going to get better or worse.
And people tell me to be strong.
As if my life depends on whether I’m strong or not.
It’s been driven into my mind that I’m strong no matter what but hell, I’m no stronger than anyone else. We’re all fucking strong in our own ways, why is it that when I’m upset, when I’m in pain and misery, I get told that I’m strong?! How about saying “you’re hurt, it happens”? Or “you don’t deserve the pain you’re feeling”?
Telling me I’m strong does nothing to me. It’s really annoying now. I have to be strong and put up with my mom who yells at me, I have to be strong and put up with being suicidal, I have to be strong and do homework that’s giving me migraines and stressing me out beyond my control, it’s been going on for fucking years and I’m just tired of it.
People getting upset at me because I don’t tell them what’s been going on with my life because I’m trying to handle it myself well fuck, maybe it’d help if I told people in my home life once in a while about my troubles, but then I’d just be spewing complaint after complaint and acting like a person I don’t want to be. I try to handle things myself because I feel like I don’t have much other choice. Which is wrong, I know, because of course I could tell my parents if I felt like it. But no one realizes how difficult it is for me to open my mouth and actually tell someone something. Because even if I tell them, it doesn’t really help much. No one’s going to crush the pain in me and replace it with happiness, no one’s going to chase my sadness away. For the moment it may quell but then after some time it just happens all over again.
Suggestion after suggestion is nice and all, but I already know that I’m the only one who can help myself and maybe everyone else knows it too. They try anyway. And I try too. To relate to people. But when I look at people on the street, most of the time I feel like I’m a completely different species. Even with some people I know, I feel like I’m in another world.
I have trouble listening to other people. It’s like they say something, and physically I’m listening, but my mind’s not actually listening to their words, it’s thinking of something else, it’s noticing something else, it’s ignoring what they’re saying. I wish I was better, more focused, on what people try to tell me, but i’m so selfish that it flies by me a lot of the time. I’m sure it’s not ADD because when I’m focused on something, I can focus.
So many times though I feel misunderstood, ignored, not worth people’s time because I’m too difficult to understand. Hell, I don’t even understand myself. I’m constantly switching moods. One moment I’m into serial killers and human experimentation and reading as much about them as I could, the next I’m immersed in forests and trees and Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. One day I’m wearing flower pins and dresses, the next I’m in jeans and a t-shirt and hoodies. I’m happy and giggly one moment, quiet and solitary the next. I’ll laugh at a dirty joke at one point and start crying hysterically at another.
I mean, everyone has mood swings, but come on. This is ridiculous.
And of course most people don’t see me and get that as an impression. It’s not a dramatic leap from one mood to another. It’s largely internal. The switch is in my mind, not in my act. Usually, anyway. It’s been more unstable as of late.
Largely, I’m never the person I wish to be. I don’t want to be a crybaby but I am. I’m overdramatic sometimes, I can be really mean if I so wished, I’m a pushover, I’m too quiet, I’m not as intelligent as I wished I was, I’m guilty of a lot of self-pity (which I bathe in quite regularly), I blame myself rather than others when I should probably blame others instead of myself, I can’t lie well, I’m always hiding my pain even though I want to be comforted most of the time, etc. etc.
I have a lot of problems.
And I talk about all these problems when I’m upset.
Which, upset in my case means sad, in pain, panicky, stressed. Not mad. I don’t get mad that often. Which is probably another problem of mine. I don’t let out anger, I suppress it, keep it shut tight in a box until it starts to fill up, and then I let it slip a bit, and then I feel guilty.
A lot of the time I wish someone would beat me up. Just like, punch me in the face, make me mad so I fight back, and then praise me for it, like “Yeah you’re still alright. Come on let’s go hunt some orc.”
All I get is “it’s okay things will look up” and “you’ve gotta move on” and “wash the dishes” or “get a job”. Which I either grudgingly do or ignore or nod and just go “yeah okay”. Because what do I have to lose?
It’s not that I don’t like that people are at least trying to help. I’m glad people care about me. But sometimes it’s a burden to have people care about you, which is stupid because there’s a lot of people out there who don’t get as much care as they should. But I’m a self-absorbed asshole. So I sometimes just wish I could do what I wanted without being asked what I was up to. I mean that would make suicide easier.
Help! I need somebody. Help! Not just anybody. Help! You know I need someone. Help!
Is pretty much resonating in my head. It’s pathetic. I feel pathetic. So pathetic I’m mad that I’m so pathetic. I’m caught in self-loathing and loathing of everything and fuck I hate people so much.
People, as a whole, suck. I hate people. I mean we may be the most intelligent species on Earth but we’re one of the most stupid too. Fuck. I hate people. Including myself. I hate that I am human. I hate it. I write about fantasy creatures and races other than human because I hate people. People are stupid. Another reason I don’t want to live. I hate being the person that I am. I hate being a person. Do you know how that feels? It feels really fucking crazy. And frustrating.
A lot of things have made me want to kill myself in the past. But all of the reasons can be traced back to that of human beings. I’ve never come across an animal and felt like killing myself. I’ve never come across a croissant and went “wow this makes me want to kill myself”.
The way humans impact one another, the way one person manipulates another, happens whether we like it or not. No one grows up alone. We’re influenced by parents and guardians, peers and friends, enemies and strangers.
For me, the things humans do impacts me. It impacts me a lot. Movies and TV shows, books and media, all of these things influences me, and also impacts my life. The things people say to me, I take literally. This ends up in me missing jokes at times. But I’m a humorous person, you’re all aware of that. Being funny or viewing/hearing funny things lends happiness to my life.
Still, the things that make me want to kill myself are not always due to the impact another human being has made on me. Sure those are the major reasons at times in my life, but other times, human beings as a whole keep me somber.
Some people believe I need to stop filling my head with the macabre and find something else to read or watch. But I don’t want to turn a blind eye to the fact that human beings are destructive creatures and even though we may say things like “I’m a nice person”, we relish the pain of others at times, and sometimes we inflict pain on others without remorse. We’re all different, but destruction is a large part of our history. Look at all the wars and battles we’ve had. Not just between two groups or two countries, but the arguments we’ve been in, the battles we’ve fought. We’re so complicated that we just fire at each other, complicated creatures battling for survival.
We lock away people who harm others, who murder for pleasure, and then we send soldiers out to kill others in other countries in the name of our land. The logic in that is difficult to completely level out, for it to be morally acceptable to everyone.
We think we’re safe, but how many human experiments have been conducted without the public knowing? The Monster Study in Iowa, Unit 731 in Manchuria, Project 4.1, MK-ULTRA, The Aversion Project, the Tuskegee Syphilis Study, all occurred and were not uncovered by the public until years after they stopped. Yes, those weren’t happening during the 21st century, but who is to say it’s not going to happen again? Or that it isn’t already happening in some countries?
I read about things like this, human beings destroying each other, and I grow afraid. And my desire to live in a world like this gets smaller and smaller. Because there are good things in the world, and then there are some really bad things. And a lot of the time I think that we’re living in the real hell and that whatever’s out there, after death, is probably far better than this.
This is why I’m not afraid of dying. People can try to scare me all they want by telling me I’ll be damned or I’ll end up in hell, but how am I supposed to believe in a biblical hell when I read news about girls being raped, of kids being bike-locked to a desk at their school, how people get mutilated and humiliated by others? How am I supposed to believe in this hell where there are demons and fiery pits when I live in a world where humans are merciless to each other?
Hell for me just seems like a thing that’s made up so you can blame something else for your own moral wrongness. I just punched my wife, the devil made me do it. I just shot a guy, I was possessed by a demon. Fuck that.
You can dub a person a saint or a monster, but we’re all human, and we all have faults, and that is what’s real for me. You have nice people and you have not-nice people, but there’s no reason to raise a person to sainthood or condemn a person as a demon because there’s always going to be good and bad in people, and just because one has more of one thing than another doesn’t mean they’re no longer humans.
I know I’m rambling here, and most of you probably don’t agree with me, but there’s a reason I hate people as a whole, and that’s because we’re so corrupted and so willing to turn a blind eye to things we don’t like.
It really hurts to live sometimes. Just because humans scare me so much, and the act of one could damage me irreparably. Maybe not directly, but indirectly. Being under the control of something is terrifying. And sometimes it’s too much to bear.
I wish I could see you
To see how you are
Because I miss you
And don’t know if you’re safe.
I see your name and flicker
I wish to see you smile
But you are so far away
Miles and miles and miles.
It’s really pathetic, how much I miss you.
I could talk to you whenever I want
But I don’t
Because you are mostly a fantasy
Inside my silly head.
I get deeper and deeper until
I don’t know what to do with myself.
I’m always a half and never a whole
Darting back and forth like a ping-pong ball, never finding equilibrium
Not knowing what is true, never knowing who I truly am.
And sometimes it’s just easier
If I just disappeared from their prying eyes.
Caused by moment, tainted as two paints, always gray
Never understanding what I did wrong
Never understanding why I don’t belong
Why it’s always between the rising sun and the star-spangled banner
And never one or the other
Why it always has to be half
Half good at math
Half good at science
Half good at living
Half good for nothing
Half good at speaking
Half good at being exceptional
Or maybe just half bad at everything
My hiatus may not be as dramatically sudden as I thought it’d be.
Anyway, I got one of these today
and let me tell you, it was a very good decision.
Some Choice Quotes:
And now I go on my hiatus.
I wish I could. I really do. But I can’t promise anything like that.
My mom keeps asking me what I want to do tomorrow or next week and all I can do is say “I don’t know” because I can’t think past the present. All I can keep thinking of is ending it all in a night. I’m having trouble eating, I’m having trouble not crying, I’m having trouble even trying the things that I usually like doing. The only thing I can do that won’t drive me insane for a while is walk around stores and places where there are people around. And I was doing that all day, but towards the end I started feeling like I was caving in and like I was losing my mind.
I’ve talked to CrisisChat, I’ve talked to both my parents, I’ve talked to Darin, McKenzie, Tyler, Liz, Clara, and several others about my suicidal depression, and I’ve even reached out to one of my teachers today through email. I talked to my mom about going to a hospital today, but she had a bad experience at the closest one here and I don’t want to end up in a place with people far more insane than I am. I’m doing all I can to get help, but I’m having the hardest time trying to find something to keep me from thinking about killing myself.
Thinking of good things makes me feel worse at times rather than better, and no matter how many times I talk about this, the feeling remains the same. It’s really difficult right now. Far more difficult than it used to be, because I’ve been through this before and while it wasn’t easy then, it’s ten times worse now.
I’m staying at my dad’s this weekend because staying in my current home makes me feel worse. And although my stepmom and her mother are good people, it’s not easy being around them. So I don’t really know if going there is going to help me at all.
So all I can tell you, anon, is that I’m doing my best to get help. But every hour is different, and I keep swinging precariously from ‘ok’ to ‘going to attempt suicide’, and it’s torture.
And the only reasoning I can come up with for this is that I’m just tired of feeling so helplessly alone, and that it’s just getting too much for me. I look at posts on here that talk about why one should keep living and so on, but I can’t find hope in that, all I see is things that may happen but aren’t guaranteed to happen.
I don’t fear death. If I think on it, I feel terrible for wanting to die because that will hurt so many others. But most of the time, I don’t care. I’m so tired of feeling this hurt. And it’s my fault for being built as a mess. It’s my fault for not seeking help when I was younger, for thinking everything was terrible and that no one was actually willing to help, because I was wrong. And maybe if I’d been more open to help when I was younger, I’d be happier today.
I’m sick of hurting myself and I’m sick of feeling hurt. I just want it to end.
And I’m so sorry if I do end up killing myself, if I abandon all this in order to end up someplace else. I just don’t want to keep suffering. I care about all of you, I just don’t care about myself enough. Or you can say I don’t care about all of you enough. Which can both be true I suppose.
One thing I’d like to point out though… you have clubs and organizations in schools for LGBTQA support and for bullying support, but you don’t generally see any for stress/anxiety/depression support. Which is awful. So if I do end up dead sometime later, don’t give me a memorial or anything, I’d rather see people try and help people like me by making clubs like that. Because the hardest thing to find to me, is a group I can go to where those of us who feel suicidal or stressed or something can be with others with similar problems and try to get through it together. One of the biggest problems I have is feeling like I’m the only one feeling like this. And I’m pretty sure I’m not. So this group thing would be a really good thing. But uh don’t name it after me, that’s stupid.
Anyway, that’s just a thought.
I’m really sorry. I’m really really sorry.
I won’t be on here much because my dad’s place doesn’t have Wi-Fi, but I can try and see if I can answer asks from my phone. And uh I guess I don’t really care if you guys text me so my number’s down below. I don’t like phone calls much though, so I’d rather you text me. In case you’re really all that concerned about me, I guess.