2017.
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Publié :22/12/2017 19h43
Dernière mise à jour :22/5/2024 3h12 1307 vues
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Fuck you, world.
Fuck Christmas, too.
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The beginning of the end
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Publié :2/12/2017 16h05
Dernière mise à jour :22/12/2017 19h42 1477 vues
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I am tired deep down in my bones.
I checked myself into the hospital for a few days last month, to try and feel better.
I don’t feel better.
The only thing I have to show for my hospital visit is a newly acquired hospital debt over 20k strong.
The United States is going under. The system is broken.
Everything here is broken. My life has come to a screeching halt.
I want to die. This is the only place I can actually say that.
When you tell family and ‘friends’ that you want to die- they panic, but they don’t help.
I’m completely stuck. I can’t afford food. I can’t pay my bills. I have this looming debt now for trying to help myself. Death seems like the only answer.
I can’t even afford to die. Did you know the average funeral costs over 6 grand?
Maybe I will be back. Maybe I won’t. I’m taking this one minute at a time.
My parents are gone. My sister is leaving the country. My friends are being deported.
What happened? How did this happen?
I love you guys. I’m hoping for something better.
I hope you find happiness somewhere.
I’m still trying, but my tank is almost empty. Fumes, really.
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2017
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Publié :5/10/2017 10h48
Dernière mise à jour :2/12/2017 15h56 1668 vues
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Wow.
My blog posts go back a few years. I cant believe how time has flown.
I am still alive. Sort of. For now.
I dont even know how to bring you up to date. Let me see.
Crimson Lover: She is still my distant friend. We dont talk much.
My 'boyfriend': Now Ex boyfriend. Major Asshole.
Best Friend: Married to another woman and happy. I am happy for him.
Ex-Boss: Moved across the country. Not around anymore.
It is me and the dog.
My mothers cancer is terminal now, spread throughout her body. My father has confirmed that he is going to commit suicide when she dies. Has also disowned me.
My job is... awful. I am plagued with panic attacks and self loathing.
You know what they would call this, if we didnt live in a 'modern world'?
Natural Selection.
If people were not so determined to keep me alive, the earth would have taken me back by now. I am the sick wolf at the back of the pack. The fish who cant swim. The three-legged gazelle.
I havent decided if I Can take my own life or not.
The posters and media say 'oh my god, suicide is so selfish.'
I dont feel selfish. I feel pain.
And I think its human nature to want pain to stop.
But then again... I called my dad selfish for telling me he was going to leave.
He chose death over his daughter. After all these years of telling me to be strong. I am confused. Was he strong?
Am I strong? Is strength eliminating pain at any means necessary? Is it grinning through the pain and pretending it isnt there?
This world is broken.
I feel broken.
I need help.
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Disaster child
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Publié :30/11/2015 16h00
Dernière mise à jour :5/10/2017 10h35 4618 vues
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Hello cyber reader,
It's been a minute since I've been on. I just went through and read all of my blog posts. I sound like a total nut case. Haha
I am relieved, embarrassed, and happy to say- that I am happy. For the first time in a long time, I am happy. I am at peace. I am content, and grateful. Got my happy little ass to a therapist, got myself some relief. I now have some glorious anti anxiety, and anti depressant meds. Thank god!
My mom is fading, the chemo is killing her. My dad is losing his mind. Quite literally going crazy (maybe I should share my pills). And it kind of just hit me one day while I was freaking out about it. I can't help them.
I've done everything I can for my mom. And I have tried relentlessly to talk to my dad and get him help. You can't help people who don't want to be helped. Instead of killing myself trying to hold everyone together, I started taking care of me again. They have my number if they want help. In the meantime, I've got to work on myself.
Life is good. Meds are good. I'm madly in love with my boyfriend (who knew communication could change so much). The house is decorated. The dog is happy. I am thankful.
I am thankful for all of you guys. My cyber readers. I am thankful for my struggles, which showed me my strength.
If you're struggling- ask for help. It's okay to need some help now and again. Suicide is not the answer. It gets better. I am proof.
Happy Holidays
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The long road.
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Publié :29/8/2015 1h13
Dernière mise à jour :30/11/2015 15h33 5640 vues
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Well. I'm still alive.
That I guess should be celebrated. It's a start. My mental health is non existent. I've developed crippling panic and anxiety attacks. I have become short of a hermit, living in such anxiety of life that I thriving my bed. The days I leave my house are a miracle.
The days I make it to work are a blessing. I am tired literally all of the time. Fatigue. Pain. I get anxious to the point now within several seconds, that I vomit. Super fun. Not.
My mom just got diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. Everyone says she isn't going to make it. My father is suicidal from is impending loss. And I.... Am lost.
I've begun grieving for a person still alive. I am still grieving the suicide of a close friend at Christmas. My dad isn't going to make it.
I don't even know. Need more wine,
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4
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Again
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Publié :5/6/2015 22h15
Dernière mise à jour :30/11/2015 15h30 5897 vues
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Well. Here we are again. It has been six months from my last confession. Not truly. But of the same nature, yes. Here we are, talking to cyber space. Waiting for the suicide hotline to respond to me.
My cheeks, my neck, and even now my boobs are covered in mascara. My face is hot, and surely red. I have cried so much today, that I keep throwing up. My throat, my nose, and my face are so sore.
I hate this stage. It happens everytime. Completely irrational, suicidal, hot mess madness. Then this stupid calm, where I feel like I can actually make a come back. But its false. Dont listen to the calm. It lies. I think it comes from exhaustion.
But its scary, because the itty bitty irrational part of my brain says- pfft. Youre fine now, it was just a tiny phase. Move on, do your thing. And its not true. It might not be tomorrow, or even this week. But sometime, after the calm. It all goes to hell. And im not doing that again.
Last time I talked to the suicide hotline was six months ago, after I broke up with my boyfriend. I couldnt even tell you what triggered it this time. I just have a fucked up brain. Hooray.
Incapacitating. Crying until your throat feels like it has collapsed. Your body heaving, tears literally streaming down your face. Stripping everything off, because you feel like you are on fire. And then, calm.
Too much stress. Too much of everything. Where do I even go from here?
fml
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4
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Hidden Angels
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Publié :20/2/2015 16h32
Dernière mise à jour :30/3/2015 19h46 7012 vues
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I am overwhelmingly shocked at the responses I have received from this blog. I did not realize anyone, much less how many people were reading what I wrote. I posted these blogs here for the sole purpose of them not being read. A bit ironic, really.
I enjoy the thought of having a cyber universe to spew my words, my story- to get it out there, but at the same time not be a burden to anyone. I am somewhat ashamed that others have read what I wrote- that you guys know my story. But then again, thank you. Your kind words, suggestions, and words of encouragement are refreshing in a world where so many people judge before asking.
I am still young, and I wont even pretend to admit that I know what I want out of life- or even what I am doing. Humans are complex in body and mind, which is fascinating but can also be quite frustrating. I have received several messages regarding my blog, and I appreciate those who have offered me comfort, or a shoulder to lean on.
I am doing okay.
I found a new job, and I love it dearly. I finally said enough is enough to my boyfriend. I wrote a very long detailed letter to him. And I essentially asked him to either work with me and repair what was broken, or to let me go so I could heal. Which was extremely difficult. I have never had to ask someone that I cared so much for to leave my life for my own health and sanity. Instead of the response I expected- which was him walking out of my life. I got a letter in return.
And completely out of character for him, he embraced the repair. He told me- in many words- that he realized by losing me that I was what he wanted. He called me his yin to his yang. And essentially said that the past was in the past, and we would move forward and work on us.
Things are somewhat settled now. This new job has greatly, drastically improved my mood and personality. I despised my last job, it made me miserable. Surrounded by terrible, dark, mean people destroyed my confidence and diminished my feeling of safety. This new job is absolutely incredible. I am surrounded by light, and happiness, and progress.
Is everything better now? No, of course not. I still have a ton to work on. But i'm getting there. And I need to get my happy little ass to a therapist. I realize more and more everyday, that I have not dealt with the happenings in my past. And like morbid parasites, they are slowly eating me alive inside.
For now, I am breathing, I have a roof over my head, and a hand to hold at night. I am content.
I wish you all the very best. Until my next chapter- goodnight.
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2
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Such is life.
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Publié :11/2/2015 22h17
Dernière mise à jour :20/2/2015 16h18 7596 vues
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Its been a minute since I have last been on this site. Much has happened.
I lost them both.
After 3 strong years of fighting my depression tooth and nail, I finally succumbed. I broke. The pressure of my god awful job, and the disaster of a situation that I called my life were too much. Created by my own hand. I cant remember the last time I was suicidal to that point. At the same time I am (now, in a sane state of mind) pleased that I have grown and learned from my depression enough to be able to ask for help. I have dealt with my depression since I was very young. I thought I was strong enough, that I could purely push through it by pure determination. I was wrong.
I hit bottom again. Had a full blown panic attack in witness of my boyfriend. The desire to take my own life was absolutely overwhelming. And incredibly terrifying. Moments of rationality, followed by moments of maniacal self hatred. The days leading up this break down were filled with fights and harsh words. My demeanor had changed, and he knew it. I didnt want to die, part of me didnt. The very thought of losing what I loved- him. Was what held me to this planet. But at the same time, every voice screamed at me- begged of me. To end my life, and reduce the pain. Release the regret. Find peace in the dark confines of nothingness.
I told my boyfriend, with tears and mascara streaming down my cheeks and down my neck. That I wanted to die. And just like that, he turned away. And I was alone. It was too much for him. I was too much for him. I let my depression win, and it drove away the one thing I wanted to keep. I spent part of the night trying to get someone to answer the suicide hotline. And the rest of the night, I spent curled into a tiny ball- praying for sleep to take me before the maniacal part of my brain returned.
I live in this house with him. And things are calmer now. He broke up with me on new years eve. And it has been over a month since I have felt whole.
My best friend found love elsewhere. Which is actually okay. I do adore him, but as a friend. And I am honestly pretty excited at his opportunity for love. Losing my boyfriend was the eye opener I needed. I was a shitty partner. I only wish I could have seen that before. Like they say I guess- you dont know what you have, until its gone.
My only problem now, and I guess the reason I have again chosen to write this chapter in the cyber universe- Valentines day. It is driving me absolutely mad. I walk through the store, and am painfully reminded of the love I lost. I go online, and its everywhere. People talking, radios chatting, roses and hearts. I understand now why single people hate this holiday.
I would give anything. Absolutely fucking anything to have him back. I love him more than anything. We have this house together... And our relationship is so weird now. I dont even pretend to have control of my life anymore.
We are separated, but we dont act like it sometimes. He shares my bed. And its agonizing, I dont know if he understands. Every now and then he holds my hand. But I am always reminded that we are not together. Part of me wishes he would just cut it off. Let me fall apart, so I can put the pieces back together. Dont drag me through this. Dont hold my hand and tell me we cant be together. Youre breaking me apart. One tiny piece at a time, every day hurts a little more.
Ive been going to the bars a lot. Trying to find something, anything to fill this emptiness. Theres not enough liquor in the world.
How long can I do this? See this man every single day, and not be allowed to love him. I feel my heart crumple inside of me. I need relief from this nightmare.
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