Once upon a time

Once upon a time, I said I was going to kill myself. I didn't just say it, I meant it. I have had thoughts of suicide for as long as I can remember. I hate my life.

For years - decades - I held out, hoping to find some reason to stay alive. Then I found that reason. Or, I thought I had. I thought I had found what I was looking for. All this time, all these years, all this pain, it was all going to finally pay off. I had found what I've been searching for, the thing that has been missing from my life.



I thought I had. I really did. I cancelled my suicide plans. And yes, I had plans. I had the means. You can edit my post all you want, timeline, methods, I had it all. I had it all set up. I cancelled those plans. Because I thought I had found the solution to my problems. For a brief moment of my life, I was happy. I was hopeful. I had reason to live, reason to believe that God was finally showing mercy on my pathetic soul.

As it turns out... I was wrong.
There is no mercy. No justice. No reward.
It is just me. Just me, and this world. This world in which I don't belong. The woman I loved who is not going to be with me, like I thought she would. I am alone. Nobody loves me. Nobody cares about me. They never did, and they never will. It is just me. Me, alone, versus the world.

Well, world, you won. Congratulations.

No, I won't commit suicide. Because I know that death holds even greater miseries for me than those I've endured in life. My life has been hell, and my death will lead to an even deeper hell. This is my existence. This is my reality. There's nothing I can do about it. Suicide won't save me, it will only condemn me to something worse. For now, I am in limbo. Alone. It is just me and these demons. The demons laugh and taunt me. They know they have won. There is no sense in continuing to fight. I know that I've lost. My dreams are dead. My angel is gone. She is the only one who could have saved me.

I am destined to suffer for eternity. Alone and unloved. As I deserve.
I hate this world. I no longer wish to be a part of it.
I would commit suicide, if I hadn't promised I wouldn't. I promised that I would live on. Continue to endure this misery. This life is a hell for me. A hell that I created for myself. I deserve everything. I don't deserve to be happy. I deserve to suffer, for eternity, in this world and the next. God hates me. He always has.

Yeah. I know my posts don't make sense. None of it would make any sense to anyone who hasn't been through what I've been through. This is my own personal hell. I deserve it. I cannot be redeemed. I cannot be saved.

Once upon a time, I had a dream.
That dream is now dead.
Am I suicidal? Yes. Absolutely. I want to die, to disappear, to be erased from existence. But I know that isn't possible. I know that I'm stuck here. One way or another.
I promised that I won't take my own life, and I won't. Because that is not an escape. As much as I wish it was. There is no way out of this. I am here for a reason. Whether it is a test, or punishment for something I did in a past life, or maybe it's just part of God's sadistic little game. I don't know. I don't care anymore.

Forgive me, I'm just ranting. This should be a diary post. So that most of you can ignore it, just as most people usually do. You only care about you, and your life. I understand. I don't blame you. You have your problems. I have mine. I get it. I won't pretend that my life matters more than yours, because it doesn't. Nothing matters. Least of all me. I don't even know why I'm here. Other than the fact that God has a sick sense of humor. And apparently I'm the punch line to some sort of cosmic joke. I am sure that some day I will look back on all of this and laugh.

Hah, hah, hah.



No, I'm not going to commit suicide. I want to. I really do. I want so badly just to die, to disappear, to not feel anything anymore. But I won't. Fuck if I know why. I guess God decided that I'm not done suffering yet. I guess there are still some more cosmic jokes for which I am supposed to be the punch line. I guess I have to hang around just so that people can point and laugh and taunt me more. Or maybe just so that they can ignore me, or lie to me, or treat me like shit, or rub it in my face that nobody cares about me. Yeah, I get it. Nobody cares. I'm a loser. Everybody hates me. I get it. My life has amounted to nothing. Thanks for reminding me, Captain Obvious. I already fucking knew that. There is nothing you can say to me that is worse than anything I've already said to myself. But be my guest. Give it your best shot. Try to make me feel worse than I already do.

You keep burning someone, eventually they develop scar tissue. Eventually they can't feel anything anymore.
My heart is now composed primarily of scar tissue. I really don't think I'm capable of feeling much of anything anymore. But try me. Please, by all means, try to cut me. Try to hurt my feelings. Try to make me feel anything at all. I would like to think that I'm still alive. That this all hasn't just been a dream. I want to believe that she was real, that our love was real, that anything is real. I want to believe that people are humans, not the demons that I see them to be. I want to believe that this is life, and not hell. I suspect that I may already be in hell. Suicide won't save me. How can you kill yourself if you're already dead?

 

Your life is Hell. Has no meaning. Empty, void of any feeling. You mean nothing to anyone, including yourself. May as well be dead and buried rather than dead and still around to keep suffering. Pretty much sums it up? And yet you made a promise not to kill yourself. Why? What's a promise but a bunch of empty, meaningless words right?

You know why you made that promise and now fight with all you've got to honour it? Easy...to prove the opposite of all your previous statements. Your life is Hell, but you still have some fight in you that believes, deep down on some level that it could one day get better. You want to be around to see when that day comes or happens. Making that promise has given your life some meaning. A purpose or need to keep taking life on, one miserable day at a time. You created this thread. All I read throughout it's content was feelings. We have good feelings and bad feelings. Unfortunately, you are deep in the suffering of bad feelings right now. But they are feelings none-the-less. You are having them which makes them an important part of your being. You have every right to have the feelings of dread and sadness. Just as you have every right on some days to enjoy feeling good. And you know you DO have the odd one. Yeah it sucks that they are rare and few between. But they are there. You mean nothing to anyone. But you mean something to yourself or you wouldn't have made such a promise. I hold promises as a binding contract. I don't make or take them lightly. So I know the dilemma you are facing. The pain your promise is causing you. But be proud of the fact that you honour your word. There are too few left that do.

A love in your life. I'm gonna be hard assed here. How do you expect anyone else to love you if you can't and won't love yourself first? Worry about you right now. Work towards at least accepting who you are. THEN start letting others into your life and heart. If you can't or won't, then you will keep being disappointed with those you want to love you. Brutal truth. And you can't "pretend" that someone loves you. I did, several times in the last 20 years. Yeah they all almost loved me to death. Physical, mental, psychological and sexual abuse kind of love. And I let it happen because I needed to be loved so badly. Please hun, start liking yourself a little before someone else does for all the wrong reasons.

I'm not going to give you the smiley face, it's gonna be all better some day, feel good reply. It's crap. Life is NOT that easy. Anyone that thinks it is, has never truly suffered at the hands of deep depression and the urges of suicide that scream in your head day after fucking day. You either sit and listen to them or you try to at least quiet them and/or silence them completely. I don't think you are personally at a place in your life where golden silence is a possibility right now. But with some help, you can find a more enjoyable day a little more often than you do right now. Professional help and posting like you did with this thread are two teeny steps in the right direction. Too small for progress? You have to start somewhere. And Hell yeah, you're going to slip and fall flat on your ass, more days than not...in the beginning. Like I said, nothing is easy. But at least give it a shot. Make an effort. Seriously, with how you are feeling and how you are beating yourself up, what have you got to lose?

I sound like a cold hearted bitch? Nah, it's just the voice of reality speaking. Life is not easy. Getting past the shit in your head is not easy. Moving on day after day is not easy. I've been fighting my demons for over 20 years now. In those 20 years I have seen close friends move forward and never look back. I've seen friends get a few feet ahead only to fall back even more than they advanced. I've seen myself spinning my wheels for 20 years now. But it is something. Progress? Wishful thinking? Sheer bullheadedness? Or just plain stupidity. In those 20 years I have had probably (yeah, at some point you just stop counting) 15 attempts. Most ended me up in the hospital just a few days. Others several weeks. And 3 were so close to giving me the peace I ache for. BUT I'm still here. Dammit...I'm still here. With all my mental health issues...I'm still here. Does that make me happy...no. But the enjoyable days are there. The sad ones are there. And the downright impossible ones are too.

Guess after all the long winded words, all I'm trying to say is it's not easy being you. No one said it would be. It's not easy being a different you. But take a chance and try to work towards a better you. In no way do I mean the rose coloured glasses with unicorn and sprinkles better you. That's near impossible after all the hurt you have felt. But try and see if you can at least find the you willing to let yourself find, once in a while, the good feeling day occasionally.

 

itma, your message sounds as though it could have been something I wrote myself. You're not telling me anything I don't know. 20+ years, yeah, I've been there. I'm 34 years old. I've been suicidal since I was 12 or so, if not younger. I've been suicidal ever since I was old enough to realize that I had the capability to end my own life. I promised that I wouldn't do it, to a woman who claims she loves me. Maybe she does, maybe she doesn't. There is no way to know. I only know what is true in my own heart. I can't speak for anyone else.

Yeah, I'm still here. And not for anyone else. Not for any promises, or fears of hell. I've been to hell, seen it firsthand. It's terrible, but I have to accept the possibility that it is where I will end up eventually regardless. I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid of death, or hell. I don't feel any obligation to live for anyone else's sake. It's my own life, and no one else has ever been willing to sacrifice so much for me that I feel obligated to keep on living for them. Most people aren't even willing to sacrifice the time of day to listen to me. I could give a fuck less about other people. This life is about me. I'm here because of me. Yeah, because I do hope that some day my life will get better. I've always hoped that. But damned if I don't feel like a fucking idiot for continuing to hope for that. 34 years. That's a long fucking time to keep on holding out hoping for something to change. If nothing has changed in 3 decades, why should I expect it to now? I don't. I have zero expectations of this life. I'm only here because... well, not because of a promise I made. I'm here because I'm a stubborn sonovabitch. That's why I'm here. I'm here so that I can give the finger to the world that wanted me dead. That's the real reason. Because I'm tired and I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore. Or something like that. I'm here because I've given up. Because nothing matters anymore. Because death won't deliver me paradise any sooner than life. I'm here because it doesn't fucking matter. That's why I'm here. I'm here, and nobody cares. Sure, plenty of people will say that they care, but words are cheap. That's all anyone has ever given me, was words. For once in my life, I would like something real. Not online internet feel-good, pretend-we-care-about-you crap. Not 'oh I'm your mother so I'm going to call you once a year on your birthday to see how you're doing' type of crap. People care about me? God cares about me? Then fucking prove it. DO SOMETHING to remind me that I'm still alive, to remind me that I'm still a fucking human being who is deserving of love and recognition. You see a person on fire, you feel obligated to throw a bucket of water on them. But see a person suffering in silence, internally, and nobody gives a fuck. NOBODY gives a FUCK. And they never will. And why should they? Who am I? What have I done to earn anybody's sympathy? Nothing. I deserve nothing. This is my pain and my burden to bear. Suicide is the easy way out. It's cheating. I'm not a cheater. I'll take the honest route, even if it kills me. At least then I can still look myself in the eye, even if nobody else will. This is my pain, and I deserve it. I deserve all of it. If God still looks down on me, after enduring everything I have and trying so hard to be a decent person throughout, then so be it. I know I'm not perfect. I never claimed or pretended to be. I wanted to be okay some day, I wanted to be normal. Whatever normal is. I don't know. I guess I never will.

Suicide? No, I'm not going to commit suicide. Suicide is too easy. Perhaps I like the pain. Perhaps I have grown so accustomed to suffering, that it is what I secretly desire. Maybe I like feeling this way. Maybe it's what I deserve. Maybe none of it fucking matters.

/rant

 

I've got no words that will help. Just know that I am with you.

 

I respect your honesty. You are right, no words will help. All I have are words. I have a lot of words. All my words and $2 can barely buy me a cup of mediocre coffee. Words. Words, words, words. What is in a word? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. And a pile of shit is still going to smell like shit, no matter how much you try to polish it up with fancy linguistics. My life is shit. It is what it is. Nothing can change that. I was foolish to hope that it could.

Thanks for the well wishes. Even if it is just out of sympathy, because you are going through the same shit. I get it, happy people don't care about us. That's okay, because I don't care about happy people either. The feeling is mutual. At least I have like minded unhappy people who know the shit that I'm going through. That's something. I guess.

I hope that your life doesn't turn out as shitty as mine. That is my way of saying, "have a nice day".

 

I'm here so that I can give the finger to the world that wanted me dead. That's the real reason.

I keep telling my kids I want to be buried butt side up so when I'm gone I'll still be telling the rest world to kiss my ass! Bahaha...muhahaha!

Okay, serious now. Glad to read your reply and I really appreciate your honesty. Keep posting. It doesn't help a lot, but it does get so many pent up thoughts out. And at the end of the day, that's really what all of us want. Just to know that SOMEONE else has heard your feelings...heard the real you. I do care. Not the hey someone loves you kind of shit. But as another person that understands your troubles and just wants to drop a line to let you know that someone is listening.