I wish I could run away from my life.

Discussion in 'Rants, Musings and Ideas' started by Emerald Hyperion, Jul 6, 2015.

  1. Emerald Hyperion

    Emerald Hyperion Not So Well-Known Member

    I don't post on SF as much as I used to, but there are times when I end up magically feeling like shit is when I feel the need to vent because I hope I end up feeling better afterwards. But I just want to come out and say out loud, like I've been saying to myself (and only to myself) since I was 13 years old, that I wish I could just pack a bag, assume a brand new identity, walk out of the door, and disappear permanently.

    No one could find me, no one would remember who I am, and no one would go looking for me - so I would hope. I've spent the past three months reading about people disappearing under mysterious circumstances, whether it was forced or by choice. I'm honestly envious of the former and the latter. I can't begin to tell you how many times I just wanted to up and disappear and never being heard from again. I've been plagued with depression since I was 13. I've come a long way when it comes to battling it and if anything I consider it a massive improvement compared to some of the terrible episodes I always had in the past a few years ago (neurotic trembling and shaking, sleeplessness, dementia, heart palpitations, high body temperature).

    I remember when I used to be a panicked person in most situations, and always being told something bad was going to happen to me never helped. I could probably write an entire novelization of all the negative things I've been told my whole life ever since I was a small child and doing my best to let it all go as an adult, to never look back, as much as try my hardest, never wants to go away. Its like I'm stuck in a time loop - I'm getting older but everything is staying the same around me. The real world is a cruel and scary place no matter where you are. Fit for the strongest and a death trap for the not-so-strong. But Jesus, I'm always thinking I'm going to die by having an accidental stroke in my own home.

    I don't know what the fuck I'm even trying to say by posting this (probably because I'm in a "panic moment") but I still remember the old days when I first joined this site back a decade ago I always had panic and depression attacks, always followed by getting hit by a hard ball of reality soon after, I would post on SF. More often than I remember. I remember when I always kept saying I wanted to die so bad. That I knew I wasn't going to be leaving anything behind and the real world constantly reminded me of how I was meant to be at the bottom of the social barrel. I felt trapped, unwanted, unloved, abandoned. I was 22 when I first seriously considered suicide. I was working at a shitty mail warehouse with shitty pay and I was a victim of daily sexual harassment and what I even made out to be a racial discrimination. Somehow I put up with it for what seemed like forever (a year and a half) before I quit and said fuck it, no pay was worth being treated like a third world factory worker with no identity. Tried to kill myself on two separate occasions when I was 24. Had no friends. Parents didn't even notice. When I was 29, I went into my father's room, fished out his gun, held it in my hand, held it to my temple... and somehow I couldn't bring myself to pull that fucking trigger. Hell, I didn't even know if that 9MM was loaded or not!

    I'm 31 now. Still here. Funnily enough, I still feel remnants of my episodic past - but only in bursts when I least expect it. I'm stable now, but I wish I could just be 100% in working order. No defects, you know? Basically, having all my shit together with no leaks in the dam. No chinks in the armor. No cuts in the teeth. But I have my scars. No one is perfect. I never claimed to be perfect. And as such, I must be reminded that I'm not. In a world surrounded by perfect people who always hit their mark on target every time, they will always come out on top every time. I might miss my targets from time to time, but I WILL be accosted for my mistakes, I guarantee you that. If I say the wrong thing at the wrong time, I will be roasted. If I look at someone the wrong way, I'll be flamed. If I choose to isolate myself from the insanity, I will be dragged back in it somehow.

    Its fucking stupid, my life. I really can't describe it - but like I said earlier, I feel like I'm that poor child outside in the snowstorm watching everyone else inside that big old house having a flame-lit party. They're all having a good time on the inside, so content with themselves, so satisfied, so happy. And here am I - that person standing outside, shaking, cold, blue in the face, shivering, nearly on the verge of keeling over and watching everyone from outside the window. Wondering to myself - how do they do it? How are they all in THERE, and me out HERE? Its like trying to keep a straight face in a high stakes poker game. You know you're gonna lose - you have a godawful fucking hand but you don't want others to know, so you gotta keep that game face PRIMED and pumped. But you know damn well you'll have to fold sooner or later and time waits for no man.

    Okay, enough with the analogies - you get the point, I'm sure. But man, what I wouldn't give to start over from the beginning, you feel me, my SF brothers and sisters? Correct my mistakes, avoid meeting the worst people I've encountered throughout my life, find a way of increasing my intelligence even further, focused more on my own needs and trying to make something of myself, but I'll admit, it is a rat race. Its not easy. Not everyone was meant to be successful and talented. But I really wish one day I had the power just to pull the bait and switch and live a life of easy come, easy go - have the gods smile down on me and give me the best life had to offer at every turn and corner with little effort. Knowing what its like to be complete and content. No worries, no cares, no shaking (dear god, no shaking!). Putting down the ones who've taken joy in putting me down. Stepping on the insects who laughed me out of society. Watching the tears of those who've ostracized me as they wallow in failure. Sounds like revenge, but no - its just taking back what was stolen from me. Maybe someone understands that. I hope.

    But yeah - had to get all that off my chest. I haven't gotten any sleep in the past three months and I feel like shit most of the time and I still manage to retain my sense of humor and spontaneous personality. I just wish more could see my sunshine and not my moonlight. But its hard if not impossible. I have one important person in my life who made me realize I have what it takes but I feel like something's stopping me in place. I don't know how to describe it without people thinking I'm a loon. I'm just an autistic black guy trying to fit in, that's all. But I know people always seem to come to the conclusion that apparently I'm too strange for this world. I've heard it enough times, people. Like I said, I'm just some guy trying to fit in. No name, no presence, I'm just a guy. I mean no harm.

    Its funny when people say "just be yourself" when you want to get to know others but at the same time you're still forced to put up a show if you want to attract others. The hoops you have to jump through if you want friends (at least those that don't try to stab you in the back later), or running circus trains if you want to take things further. I always stayed myself and never pretended to be something I wasn't, and ironically I still got bit in the ass as much as I can remember. What's improvement in my eyes can be lack of progression in someone else's. A tip for my brothers and sisters on here - stay who you are - you're fine. There's nothing wrong with you. Its everyone else who's a nut job. I spent most of my life thinking I was insane before I realized I wasn't the problem.

    Anyway, I'd just like to disappear sometimes. And just be done with it. Tired of the same faces, same voices, same put downs, same mockeries. I want to settle on a island somewhere and live amongst of bunch of friendly natives. They might kill me and cook me a few days later, but at least they'd be friendly to me for my benefit temporarily. Okay, maybe I'm better off just burying myself in a ditch and never coming back up ever again.

    Yeah... end of shitty rant. Guess what? My heart is still racing and my body temperature is through the fucking roof after typing all this. I probably made a few spelling mistakes or grammatical errors here and there but do I really care right now? I just want to feel better tonight.

    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 6, 2015
  2. johnnysays

    johnnysays Well-Known Member

    Hey good read.

    Ya to succeed somewhat do you have to sell yourself? Do you have to do a show? What I've always heard is being yourself is enough, but I think if most people examined themselves and what they do around others, they're not always just being themselves. It's like whne I get dressed up to go out and try to have the best behavior I think others want me to have. That's not really me. It's kind of what I wnat to be, at best. I'd like to have a job and be upbeat and look sharp. But it's really just a show. Because I come home and my costume has to be put away.

    Maybe they can tell, or maybe not. I'm beat up. No idea how much longer I got. I'm on rocks.

    What do they say? Wear your game face?
    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 12, 2015