
donewithyourview
Member
- May 9, 2022
- 32
I'm honestly empty.
This week, my friends showed up at my doorstep in the middle of the night. They were concerned I was going to kill myself. They refused to leave and spent several hours just talking about mundane things with me. I've never been cared about like this in my life before, but that might just be because I've been very private in the past with my mental health. It was an overwhelming experience and I'm still emotional thinking about it.
But I am struggling. So, so much. I'd spent the past hour before my friends showed up burning my own arm and strangling myself intermittently with a rope until I got lightheaded. My arm is covered in ugly, raw, blistering burns. I can't hide this forever. I don't even know if I want to. Everyone already knows how much of a pathetic excuse for a human being I am. They've seen my self-harm scars, they've seen the bruises I inflict on myself, they see how I torture myself daily. It's so sad. I'm so disgusted with myself. Disgusted for letting the people I love and care about down.
There's an itch in the back of my head. It feels like a voice is constantly screaming at me to feel SOMETHING. It's not even pain; it's a sort of hollow, empty, void in the middle of my chest that's sucking up everything worth anything around me. My art, my grades, my friends, my loved ones, my memories, my traumas: everything disappears into a big nothing. Nothing. Pure emptiness. This is the voice that drives me to hurt myself. I am suffering; I feel that hurting myself in increasingly painful ways is the only way I'll be able to quiet the voice. But it only silences it for a few blessed seconds before the pain fades and the misery returns.
God, I just don't know what to do anymore. I am tired of the daily routine. I'm tired of getting up every morning. I'm tired of doing the same fucking thing every day for the rest of however long chance decides my life is. Do I not get a say? What the fuck am I waiting for? The guilt, the self-hatred, and the disgust is eating me alive. I feel like such a fucking coward every day because I know I'll never get the courage to do it. I'm still very young, the concept of my own mortality hasn't sunk in yet. I genuinely cannot comprehend it at all.
I don't know what to do. I am so, so lonely, so empty. I have wanted to be understood by someone, anyone, for my entire life.
I have second-degree burns on my arms. My body disgusts me. My face is twisted and grotesque. I hate everything about myself. I wish I wasn't a being. I wish I wasn't this freak.
This week, my friends showed up at my doorstep in the middle of the night. They were concerned I was going to kill myself. They refused to leave and spent several hours just talking about mundane things with me. I've never been cared about like this in my life before, but that might just be because I've been very private in the past with my mental health. It was an overwhelming experience and I'm still emotional thinking about it.
But I am struggling. So, so much. I'd spent the past hour before my friends showed up burning my own arm and strangling myself intermittently with a rope until I got lightheaded. My arm is covered in ugly, raw, blistering burns. I can't hide this forever. I don't even know if I want to. Everyone already knows how much of a pathetic excuse for a human being I am. They've seen my self-harm scars, they've seen the bruises I inflict on myself, they see how I torture myself daily. It's so sad. I'm so disgusted with myself. Disgusted for letting the people I love and care about down.
There's an itch in the back of my head. It feels like a voice is constantly screaming at me to feel SOMETHING. It's not even pain; it's a sort of hollow, empty, void in the middle of my chest that's sucking up everything worth anything around me. My art, my grades, my friends, my loved ones, my memories, my traumas: everything disappears into a big nothing. Nothing. Pure emptiness. This is the voice that drives me to hurt myself. I am suffering; I feel that hurting myself in increasingly painful ways is the only way I'll be able to quiet the voice. But it only silences it for a few blessed seconds before the pain fades and the misery returns.
God, I just don't know what to do anymore. I am tired of the daily routine. I'm tired of getting up every morning. I'm tired of doing the same fucking thing every day for the rest of however long chance decides my life is. Do I not get a say? What the fuck am I waiting for? The guilt, the self-hatred, and the disgust is eating me alive. I feel like such a fucking coward every day because I know I'll never get the courage to do it. I'm still very young, the concept of my own mortality hasn't sunk in yet. I genuinely cannot comprehend it at all.
I don't know what to do. I am so, so lonely, so empty. I have wanted to be understood by someone, anyone, for my entire life.
I have second-degree burns on my arms. My body disgusts me. My face is twisted and grotesque. I hate everything about myself. I wish I wasn't a being. I wish I wasn't this freak.