*bashing my head against the wall* don't feel don't feel don't feel don't feel don't feel
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@honestlynotokay
*bashing my head against the wall* don't feel don't feel don't feel don't feel don't feel
someone can say the most gut wrenching and completely untrue thing to you, ruin your entire week (and counting, i’m still wrecked over it), make you cry for hours, hurt yourself, and not eat for a day and a half just for them to… not be punished. not even feel guilt. they don’t even know what they put me through but if i told them, it would be all “well you’re trying to guilt trip me.” i just want to make friends without them inevitably making fun of me for something. making fun of me is a drug that everyone has to have a hit of. i don’t know why. but no one asked how i felt about it. and i know i’m the indispensable one; no one would choose my side no matter how suicidal it makes me feel. i just want to tell them “hey, you really fucked me up and now i have to wear long sleeves until it heals.” but god forbid i say how i feel, because it makes the person responsible feel guilty. but it’s not personal; people feel the same way about me as they would reading a newspaper article of a stranger. they’d say, ‘oh, that sucks,’ and move on. what’s it like to be someone’s favorite? anyone’s favorite? to have someone who’s got your back and will ask if you’re okay? to be able to be normal and not want to die because someone hiding comfortably behind a keyboard purposefully made you suicidal without a care in the world?
I have a lot more friends than I thought I would, but each and every one has made fun of me. Each and every one has bullied me, made me cry, made me self harm, and every one has said sorry just to do it again. It’s my fault for forgiving them. I need to stop. I can’t let anyone in anymore. Having friends will only hurt me, because they always betray me. I should end my life now before it happens again. It won’t get better. I’ve been telling myself for years to stay alive because it has to get better eventually, right? But it doesn’t. I just want something, anything that points to the slightest chance of me being okay. But there’s no light at the end of the tunnel, it’s dark. It’s always been dark.
I’m still alive. I shouldn’t be. Things have only gotten worse
The world is not made for lovers or even enjoyers and it’s just getting so much worse
Refuge.
People will swear up and down that they’ll support you when you have depression but then when you show or have any symptoms at all, not only will they turn on your but they will make fun of you and actively make your life harder
I will mourn the life I once had and the life I could’ve had if he hadn’t done that to me until I die
No one I know understands. Everyone is telling me that I’ll feel better if I get a job or volunteer. That is just not how it works. I can’t gather the strength to shower or eat. “The only reason you can’t is because you believe you can’t.” I fucking hate you, you absolute entitled fucking cunt. You are so lucky that you can’t understand what it’s like to actually have depression. I hate myself for not being able to do things. It’s a fucking mental illness. There is no logic involved. There is a mental barrier preventing me from getting out of bed with the intent to take care of myself. You saying “just don’t think about it” comes from a place of such luxury and entitlement. It’s fucking fantastic that it works for you, but you need to understand that what works for you doesn’t work for everyone. There are some things you don’t understand, and being offended when someone suggests that you don’t understand something just shows how entitled you are and how much you think you are superior to other people in worse situations. If there was any way I could get my brain to hardwire itself into functioning at any fucking capacity, I would’ve fucking done it by now. The only alteration I can make to my brain that would help anybody would be to fucking blow it out. And everyone will wonder why I did it when I have repeatedly told them that their actions aren’t helping and are only making me feel worse. And they’ll brush it off because the concept of taking accountability for their actions is so foreign to them. I am not safe here. It’s your fault.
Life update: worse worse worse
Whenever I cut myself it’s out of a need to see blood and I find it morally wrong to take someone else’s so :/
Writing my suicide note lol