How Low CAN You Go...

Discussion in 'Welcome' started by Sad_Psychotic, May 18, 2012.

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  1. Sad_Psychotic

    Sad_Psychotic New Member

    ...Greetings, I suppose. My name is R. Ever since I can remember I've been taunted, beaten, and generally bullied all through school. Most of the time I could deal with it, fight back, and had friends to support me. As I got older a few things changed. I became a bit more reclusive, avoided confrontation or even conversations with others. With it being high school and the word-of-mouth being ever truthful at the time others avoided me as well. The few friends I did have helped me on some bad days, their company alone was very helpful. As I grew older still I became more aware of the 'natural order' as it were. Groups didn't matter anymore, I could talk as freely as I wanted and be more open. Then came the class work. I started to become easily frustrated, even more so for the classes I couldn't pass or had to repeat. The friends I had made became more mature and knowledgeable, moving on to their own lives and homes and successes. I however have felt still for nearly a decade. I no longer contact my friends and they have never contacted me. Even before these months of depression I was always the one to call them, never the other way around. Even my relationships who were merely a recreational source have yet to contact me. What little 'happiness' I can find I've come to consider a distraction or a vice just to delay myself from looking around. I've often spent hours in one place, watch a screen and escaping into a movie or tv show, feeling as though I'm living my life through the lives of fictional characters. I find little pleasure in the hobbies I bother to keep these days. Oil painting; I haven't touched a canvas in nearly a year. Writing; this has been the most truthful work I've done in 5 years. Drawing; I do hours each day but never feel any accomplishment. Even the occasional alcoholic drink has lost it's impact, leaving me to become sober for a month. I can't remember the last time I felt euphoric...

    I've come to hate myself. Truly despise myself, as though I were another person. I have failed myself. That child who saw the world with bright eyes, that boy who looked down at those who abused him, that teen who dreamed of bright future, they young man who had no worries...I haven't seen them in a long time. Everything I've come to own I see as trash, just junk that I will leave behind when I pass that will remind others of who lived here. I despise any memory I will leave behind. Any hope or dream I had I find pointless, keeping me blind from seeing myself for what I truly am. An accident. A brat. A burden...

    I've become so numb to most of my emotions. Anger and sorrow are one of the few things I have that feel real. I try to 'feel' as often and as unnoticed as I can. Even the this 'clenching stone' I feel in my chest feels better than any attempt to feel 'happy' or 'euphoric'. I can only feel this stone when I've reached a certain truth...It feels like being on the verge of tears in my very heart...It actually feels warm at times...

    As for committing the act...I never feel I even will. I hate pain and suffering, even my own. I guess I'm a coward. Quick and painless, as most would agree. But my junk...the embarrassing reminder of who I was would just burden myself as I passed on and those who would remember me. I plan to do it when I have nothing, not a trace of my existence around. Even my body would be somewhere none would find it...

    Perhaps I don't do it because this is some sliver of hope in me...I can't see how. I don't see myself ever succeeding in anything in life. I don't see myself ever happy or making other happy. I don't see myself having children, marrying, dating, or even losing my virginity. All I see are low paying jobs, failure, always on the lower rung and just live on to suffer...How low can I go before it finally happens?...

    This is a long introduction, I apologize, but I've been developing these thoughts for most of my life...
     
  2. TheLoneWolf

    TheLoneWolf Well-Known Member

    Welcome. And I can relate to 99% of what you just said. I'd say more, but you've already said it. I'd offer you helpful advice if I had any, but then if I had anything like that, I'd use it myself. It seems like some of us were never meant to be born, or at least that's how it feels. Like our entire life is a waste. And yet, there's always that sliver of hope. That baseless notion that, in spite of our experience, we think that somehow life is going to someday get better. I would like so badly to believe that is true... even though deep down inside, I know it's just fairytales and optimistic hogwash.

    I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound so down. But I'm going through a lot of what you're going through right now and I just can't think of anything uplifting to say. If it helps, you're not alone... there are many others who feel this way.
     
  3. nolongerknow

    nolongerknow Active Member

    It can get pretty low.

    "I've often spent hours in one place, watch a screen and escaping into a movie or tv show, feeling as though I'm living my life through the lives of fictional characters."
    This IS my life, so please don't feel alone. It seems the only happiness/ actual mirth I experience is when I am alone watching a funny movie and have a very wholesome laugh. Then I remember that this is it for me, I am alone, no-one to experience this with.

    Music helps a lot too, at least for me, if nothing else it provides some sense of connection to the outside world. And touches on feelings/emotions you may not have experienced for quite a time. Listening to GOOD artists alone, is still better then getting drunk and listening to Nickelback with friends at a bar.

    "It feels like being on the verge of tears in my very heart...It actually feels warm at times..."

    Yes I get this at least once a day, usually two or three times. I used to write a lot of poetry, but I have never put something so eloquently as you described above. The definition of Poetry is something like : expressing a lot of emotion in the fewest of words.. and nearly all poetry comes from the darkest of pain..

    I just want to say I really can relate to your post and seriously if you have any questions just pm me or reply back here, I'll be checking..
     
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