My therapist had me recite what happened in 2021 and I had the PTSD shakes after. Even typing this, now, I'm trembling. I don't know if its out of anger or what.
In 2021, at the rock bottom of my drug addiction (I've recovered and relapsed, since), I finally told my friends that I felt that they didn't care about me like they cared about each other. I also told them I'd been thinking about taking my life. Maybe that should've been two separate conversations. Its all my fault, yadda yadda yadda
They knew me before my addiction. They had turned a blind eye when I started using and would instead judge me, shame me behind my back, and leave me out of plans. When I confronted them, they responded with very fake "Of course we care about you!"s, before leaving the servers we were in and blocking me everywhere. I was so mad and so sad. I cried for months. I remember crying so loudly in my room hoping someone would come in and hold me. Lesson learned: No one is ever coming to save me.
There was only one of them who didn't block me, and a few months ago (weeks? I'm losing my sense of time again) I dm'd them on instagram telling them I didn't hold a grudge against them and I hoped they would have a good life before blocking them. Its true, I dont hold a grudge against them in particular, or one other person-- they were the only two to reach out to me privately. Even if we didn't see eye to eye, or the conversation centered them rather than me, I appreciate being talked to. Although I don't hold a grudge against those two in particular, that doesn't mean I forgive any of them. I wish I could fist fight the others. One good hit to the nose and I'd feel better. Smiling at them with blood in my teeth, dripping from my ears, and I'd feel better. They'd never let me have the satisfaction. I'll haunt them instead.
The worst thing about this situation is it made me more suicidal. I can't say that to anyone, but within the last 3 years I've been thinking of it more in depth. The methods. When? Where? The only unknown I have is my suicide note. I'll probably write multiple, because there's different things I want to say to different people.
I used to take those "when will i die" quizzes as a kid, and the strangest thing happened. I took upwards of 3 separate tests, and they all said 2045. I don't know if I have 20 years left in me. I don't think I do.
I also feel like I'm a fake. A phony. Because I'm well aware I'll probably stay alive for the next 5 years (unless something horrible happens and lets be honest it's very likely) and I don't mind. When I'm ready to do it, I'll do it. I know this is how I'll die.
I'll stay until everyone hates me again.
In 2021, at the rock bottom of my drug addiction (I've recovered and relapsed, since), I finally told my friends that I felt that they didn't care about me like they cared about each other. I also told them I'd been thinking about taking my life. Maybe that should've been two separate conversations. Its all my fault, yadda yadda yadda
They knew me before my addiction. They had turned a blind eye when I started using and would instead judge me, shame me behind my back, and leave me out of plans. When I confronted them, they responded with very fake "Of course we care about you!"s, before leaving the servers we were in and blocking me everywhere. I was so mad and so sad. I cried for months. I remember crying so loudly in my room hoping someone would come in and hold me. Lesson learned: No one is ever coming to save me.
There was only one of them who didn't block me, and a few months ago (weeks? I'm losing my sense of time again) I dm'd them on instagram telling them I didn't hold a grudge against them and I hoped they would have a good life before blocking them. Its true, I dont hold a grudge against them in particular, or one other person-- they were the only two to reach out to me privately. Even if we didn't see eye to eye, or the conversation centered them rather than me, I appreciate being talked to. Although I don't hold a grudge against those two in particular, that doesn't mean I forgive any of them. I wish I could fist fight the others. One good hit to the nose and I'd feel better. Smiling at them with blood in my teeth, dripping from my ears, and I'd feel better. They'd never let me have the satisfaction. I'll haunt them instead.
The worst thing about this situation is it made me more suicidal. I can't say that to anyone, but within the last 3 years I've been thinking of it more in depth. The methods. When? Where? The only unknown I have is my suicide note. I'll probably write multiple, because there's different things I want to say to different people.
I used to take those "when will i die" quizzes as a kid, and the strangest thing happened. I took upwards of 3 separate tests, and they all said 2045. I don't know if I have 20 years left in me. I don't think I do.
I also feel like I'm a fake. A phony. Because I'm well aware I'll probably stay alive for the next 5 years (unless something horrible happens and lets be honest it's very likely) and I don't mind. When I'm ready to do it, I'll do it. I know this is how I'll die.
I'll stay until everyone hates me again.
