ladidabi
Losing all hope is freedom.
- Mar 19, 2023
- 48
What the actual fuck is going on right now? Days are unpredictable, hopeless and bring me no happiness. I seek distraction by acting like a complete idiot. To people I am nothing but that person standing in the back. I mean nothing to anyone. Nothing. I do not believe I'm cared for, but rather a tool which I, myself am consenting to, in a goal of having a temporary release from pain. I do not feel fear for my own life. I do not feel joy.
On the outside they see nothing but somebody who may be shy. In fact, I am afraid. I am afraid of what ways I can be taken advantage of. I do not want to be cared for. However, I don't want to experience the pain of being played around with like a toy. Looks-wise I have heard positive things from people. Unfortunately, that leads to more attention. I do however I see them all as lies, and would rather be pushed away even more, to be remembered by less, no matter what memories may be made from my existence, good or bad. I can't look at myself in the mirror. All I see is somebody who has reached the stage of giving up on self-care, as someone who was so obsessed with appearance. My flaws are eating me alive, adding a nice, fat squeeze of lemon in my cut open chest. The starving is giving me the fuel I need mentally. The feeling of emptiness causes physical pain that can distract me from my thoughts. Just like cutting causes distractions in the form of pain and visual distractions watching blood running down my cold, pale arms.
Seligman and Maiers theory on learned hopelessness always had something that really stuck to me when I stumbled upon it. The trial done on the dogs that went through electric shocks repeatedly in an attempt of escaping. To me, that is the suffering I feel. Repeated suffering. There is no feeling of hope, even when the outsider is standing there, blindly watching you spiral through the ground. We are no different to these dogs that he used in testing the theory. In fact, it is exactly how we have come to the conclusion of wising death upon oneself, rather than continuing. After all, the repeated attempts have resulted in us ending up with this mindset.
Pro-lifers don't understand this confusion in life, and the need to CTB or harm oneself in other ways. «Don't harm yourself», «life is worth living», «you've got x, y and z - what is there to complain and be sad about?». My response to that is with full disrespect; go fuck yourself. I wish nothing but pain for such heartless beings. Making it harder for the ones who are hurting, to abuse them longer. To take advantage of the weak.
I find it intolerable how I can be so pathetic. A fool. A dumb fucking zombie. If I were to meet my younger self. I would beat the living shit out of her. That little fucking naive, weak little shit. A doll to be played around with. Disgusting, vile, worthless excuse of a human. I can't stomach this sickening behavior of wanting attention, and pulling myself away. I am afraid of existing. I am observed by the outside. I am not in safe hands, and will never be.
When I am gone, I will not be and do not want to be remembered. I don't want to be buried, cremated or have any kind of ritual done upon my cold, dead body. I wish to rot, on the ground, outdoors with no one around. Let my body decompose and be forgotten. Beforehand, I need to mutilate my body. Slashing myself and destroying my insides that are somehow today barely holding on, before making myself disappear into nothing. To no longer know, think, understand and feel.
On the outside they see nothing but somebody who may be shy. In fact, I am afraid. I am afraid of what ways I can be taken advantage of. I do not want to be cared for. However, I don't want to experience the pain of being played around with like a toy. Looks-wise I have heard positive things from people. Unfortunately, that leads to more attention. I do however I see them all as lies, and would rather be pushed away even more, to be remembered by less, no matter what memories may be made from my existence, good or bad. I can't look at myself in the mirror. All I see is somebody who has reached the stage of giving up on self-care, as someone who was so obsessed with appearance. My flaws are eating me alive, adding a nice, fat squeeze of lemon in my cut open chest. The starving is giving me the fuel I need mentally. The feeling of emptiness causes physical pain that can distract me from my thoughts. Just like cutting causes distractions in the form of pain and visual distractions watching blood running down my cold, pale arms.
Seligman and Maiers theory on learned hopelessness always had something that really stuck to me when I stumbled upon it. The trial done on the dogs that went through electric shocks repeatedly in an attempt of escaping. To me, that is the suffering I feel. Repeated suffering. There is no feeling of hope, even when the outsider is standing there, blindly watching you spiral through the ground. We are no different to these dogs that he used in testing the theory. In fact, it is exactly how we have come to the conclusion of wising death upon oneself, rather than continuing. After all, the repeated attempts have resulted in us ending up with this mindset.
Pro-lifers don't understand this confusion in life, and the need to CTB or harm oneself in other ways. «Don't harm yourself», «life is worth living», «you've got x, y and z - what is there to complain and be sad about?». My response to that is with full disrespect; go fuck yourself. I wish nothing but pain for such heartless beings. Making it harder for the ones who are hurting, to abuse them longer. To take advantage of the weak.
I find it intolerable how I can be so pathetic. A fool. A dumb fucking zombie. If I were to meet my younger self. I would beat the living shit out of her. That little fucking naive, weak little shit. A doll to be played around with. Disgusting, vile, worthless excuse of a human. I can't stomach this sickening behavior of wanting attention, and pulling myself away. I am afraid of existing. I am observed by the outside. I am not in safe hands, and will never be.
When I am gone, I will not be and do not want to be remembered. I don't want to be buried, cremated or have any kind of ritual done upon my cold, dead body. I wish to rot, on the ground, outdoors with no one around. Let my body decompose and be forgotten. Beforehand, I need to mutilate my body. Slashing myself and destroying my insides that are somehow today barely holding on, before making myself disappear into nothing. To no longer know, think, understand and feel.
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