Post 7

God I hate this feeling. This feeling of drowning yet somehow feeling as if i'm being slowly burned alive at the same time. This sadness consuming everything, the paranoia seeping in and taking over my thoughts. I have tried lifting my hand to grasp for help, I get nothing. Even when I pretty blatantly say I'm not ok. I don't want to admit something could really be wrong. That I need help so badly. It's not that I need someone to save me, I just need someone to listen and care. I feel like no one does. Or they would notice i'm being eaten alive.

I'm not ok

I'm not ok. I'm feeling that feeling I get sometimes. The feeling of drowning. I keep letting out these silents screams, dropping subtle hints. No one hears. I've always had a problem asking for help. I feel like i'm sliding back down. Back down into unhealthiness. My life is frozen. And it drives me crazy. I'm depressed and my moods are swinging too and fro without warning. I need to get something done. I have a feeling that getting something done will ease this a little but I don't know where to start. This shit is never ending. I go almost 2 years feeling almost normal. Now I feel like i'm no my way to losing that. FUCK

what is love?

Every time I have ever fallen for someone it's always been hard. Hard and ugly. All the people I've ever loved had been more of an infatuation then love. Except now. And I'm not sure what that means. This time, it was gradual not immediate. Which is so not normal for me and it has caused me to question. I always enjoyed who I'm with now, and I knew giving him a chance was the right thing to do because he was such a stand up guy, a real gentleman, but now I think I love him. I am afraid to say it though. I don't want to scare him away and ruin the perfectness we have now. This has been the most normal relationship I have ever been in and honestly it scares me and I don't know how to act or what to do with myself. He's the prefect guy, which has never been what I end up getting in relationships with. I get in relationships with the fixer uppers, people who are broken and need fixing. He is fixed, and really never was broken. I am broken. But, he doesn't believe that I'm even broken. Does that mean he can over look my craziness or that I am not as obviously crazy as I used to be? I am not sure. This is foreign territory for sure and the only thing I know to do now is to proceed with caution.

Post 4

I am an empty shell. I will always be and empty shell. My insides were scrapped from me by a hungry man with a clam shucker. I am wasted space, wasted air, wasted life. I will forever play the victim because it's all I know, being a victim. I chase after those that don't want me and I squish the things I do have, like the girl that smothers her pets from holding them too tightly. I don't know how to go on. What's more I don't know if I should. I want to od. I want to go to sleep and never wake up. The only thing that's stopping me is the fact that last time I tried, I didn't make it. I got so close. Didn't make it. This is a term people sometimes use to describe someone dying, however I'm using it to describe living and my fail at suicide. Last time, long after i woke up in the hospital, the repercussions of not making it were large. Mandatory Hospitalization being on the top of the list. Also though, if I don't make it, I took medicines that i would then have to repay for upon being alive. Plus I'm on medicaid now. Not sure how much it covers as far as mental health goes. So if I don't make it, I'd be in a bigger shit hole them I'm in now financially. I don't know what to do or where to go from here, not just about suicide but about life. What do I do? Where do I go? I feel so broken. Damaged can goods that have taken a few too many falls from the shelf. I'm 20. Living with my mom. GED. Not in college. Don't know what I want to do with my life (besides end it). Tormented by the past. Lacking basic adult functioning capabilities. What happens now? I guess I wait. That's all there really is to do. Wish I just knew at least what it is that I'm waiting for.

Post 3

I hate that I still love you. I hate that when I'm with people I want to love all I can think about is you. I hate that when I hear the cure you're all I can visualize. I hate how when I see you're favorite things in stores I still smile. I hate how Fun Dip will never taste the same. You don't deserve this. For all my thoughts to involve you. I don't know what to do about it. And I don't understand how come I hated you when we were together yet now you're all I really want. I hate him. I hate that you're happy. It's not fair. I hate that I disgust you when I used to adore the ground you walked on (yes I am aware that that is contradictory to previous statements, I can't help it.) Most of all I hate that I don't know how to fix it. Not us because I believe that's not fixable, but fix all the things I feel about you, or delete them. I wish there was a device like in Sunshine of a spotless mind that could just delete you from my memory, i know that the moral of that movie was against such things but I don't care. I'm done. I don't want them anymore. All they do is torment me and bring pain.

Post 2

i feel like silly putty. or like that slime i used to make out of cornstarch in grade school. i feel like if i laid on a hammock or net some of me would start to oozze and seep through. I've spent a lot of today avoiding the world and laying on my floor. looking up at the ceiling. It got to the point where i had to look at my arms, inspect them to make sure i wasn't gooping up and melting away, leaving behind some kind of slimy trail like a slug. 300 milligrams of seroquel. What's the therapeutic level of that? I'm not sure.

Post 1

I'm so tired. I don't want to do this anymore. I'm sick of being strong. I'm so depressed and being depressed just makes me more depressed. If that makes any sense. Probably not. "we're all mad here" I can feel the beauty around me but i don't want to look. I don't feel like looking. I'm spinning in circles and all i want to do is close my eyes and curl into a little ball. I am ashamed to cross the street, i look down, look away, i don't want to meet the eyes of the strangers i feel unworthy to be around. Everyone is so interesting i feel lacking in comparison. being unsocial is making me more and more unsocial and is making human contact harder and harder. when i reach out i feel like it's just wasted effort. I'm drowning. no one seems to see. no one can pull me to surface though so what does it matter. when you need help you're supposed to call out fire. supposedly there's been a study that says that humans are more likely react to "fire" then "help." Why is that? does the word help=involvement? Probably. Fire Fire. Not that anyone will read this. if i left a suicide note in my hypothetical suicide would anyone read it? or would they just clean up the mess and move on? who knows, it's hypothetical right? Fire Fire. I'm supposed to call my psychiatrist when i feel like this. why? so i can be locked up again? no. I'll be fine. on my own. I'll rebound, on my own, it's nothing new. I'm talking just to be sure i still can, hearing my words just to be sure they're still there. i feel numb. Fire Fire. I keep hearing the words "where we are going we don't need roads" back to the future. strange. Where is my delorean? what does it matter? i'd have to go so far back in time to save myself. if that's even possible. is there any way for me to exist without being the fucked up mangled thing that i am? probably not. what else can i say that hasn't been said before? nothing. everything's been said just like everything's been done. i truly believe that we as humans are at the point where there's nothing we can do that hasn't been done, there's nothing i can say or think that someone somewhere hasn't said or thought before right? where are these people? these people that think and feel like me? i discredit my therapist just because she's telling me how to live and how to react based on things she's learned in books and lectures, not from real events in her life. self help books are crap too. i don't care what you say. i doubt, with all my being, your self help book is really going to help ME live MY life. Unless i can find someone somewhere who's lived my life and can tell me what to do next. i don't even know what i'm saying anymore, more talking just to talk to prove i can. Fire fire. so. if a tree falls in the woods and no one hears it does it make a sound? if i scream at the top of my lungs in an empty room am i still screaming? do things only exist in the presence of other things to witness them? I don't know. what is this all about? nothing probably. what is it all for? more nothing. a pastor once told me that god put me through all my horrors to help others. my reaction was: what a fucked up god. I think I'll believe in something else thank you. yet again with the fire. flames licking at my skin. i can almost see it. My birthday is this tuesday. the anniversary of the day i was dispelled from my mother's uterus. my birthdays usually suck. I'm not expecting this one to be any different. plus, 19 is not really a monumental age. i've been legal for one year. yay. whatever. fire.