wordsworth
New Member
- Sep 6, 2025
- 3
(Hi, everyone! I hope your day was as good and calm as it can be depending on your circumstances.)
I tried to work on myself but it never seems to lead anywhere. Maybe it's just that I'm very young still, not even past twenty five, — or maybe I'm just unable to change once the idea was implanted.
I tried to off myself back in school, pretty half-heartedly honestly, I haven't attempted it since even when I really wanted to. But I think I should've done it back then. I know assigning moral qualities to committing or not committing to it and saying "I was too weak to go through with it" or "I was strong enough to stay" is pointless. Yet deep down, I really think I'm too weak and worn down to go through with the whole thing now. It's like that thing when winter passes and it's dangerous for suicidal people because now they have the energy but not the mental stability so they are more likely to do things to themselves. I've stayed in the winter time for years and years now. When it gets better, it doesn't actually, only feels more bearable. When it gets worse, I feel the hurt but I still stay. But the core of it is the same, a wreck that can only cause more wreckage.
It "got better" for some time, while I was dating a girl I could see my life with — not exactly "see my life", per se, but I felt like I could get there one day, because she brought me the needed hope, and I loved her. We broke up two years later, in May of this year, because I'm a person she doesn't want to deal with. My attitude is annoying, my attempts at helping her and supporting her (a thing that's fairly expected from a partner) were not enough to do anything, she fell out of love and got with someone she clicks better with incredibly soon. The worst part is that she's genuinely a good person. I can't just yell "it was cheating" to make myself feel better (I knew she started falling in love with her current partner before we broke up so it technically was emotional cheating; but it's completely not her fault because she tried with me to the best of her ability, to the end). It shattered all of the progress I thought I had made. Back at square one, wanting to just whine about how I don't deserve living and feeding this meat bag is only wasting resources that could've been used for someone who deserves it and how I fucking knew from the beginning because I know this pattern, it's a self-fulfilling prophecy.
So I'm at that place of recognition now. The meds aren't helping, the people I love are all going to come to it one day and realize I'm too much of a burden on top of being annoying and uninteresting, the adhd+ depression+anxiety mix is crushing me in terrible ways so I can't and don't want to do anything, really. There are still people who seem to like me. I think I'll wait on them to leave me before maybe considering trying to kill myself again because I don't want to hurt them like that while they still care.
But it seems inevitable, in a way. It seemed like that's what's destined to happen long before, because I'm still essentially the sixteen year old child swallowing pain meds one after another with a blind desire to end it. I feel like I've never truly moved on, judging by how I've never beaten the ideations, judging by how I still find comfort in harming myself when it gets too much, judging by how everyone is living their lives and I'm here fantasizing about lighting myself on fire as a political protest, to combine three things I want — to make a big statement, to be remembered and to just leave. Judging by how I finally created an account here.
I can't believe I'm twenty three now, maybe because it shouldn't have happened. Maybe it all should've happened the way it did. But I'm a worthless excuse for a human being, a disappointment to everyone, a person someone can move on from in less than a month, a person who uselessly overthinks every single action they do like this action would actually change anything that matters, a person who cries at the slightest tone change in someone's voice. I hate myself so much. It's a pathetic existence, just hurting people who depend on me for some reasons and hurting myself because I deserve to hurt. I might not want to die as much as I just don't think I should live. It doesn't seem like it's worth it, trying to squeeze something out from this life and aching in the process. I want to see things, I want to do things, I want to love and to be loved by people — but it probably won't happen, no matter how long I stick around.
I tried to work on myself but it never seems to lead anywhere. Maybe it's just that I'm very young still, not even past twenty five, — or maybe I'm just unable to change once the idea was implanted.
I tried to off myself back in school, pretty half-heartedly honestly, I haven't attempted it since even when I really wanted to. But I think I should've done it back then. I know assigning moral qualities to committing or not committing to it and saying "I was too weak to go through with it" or "I was strong enough to stay" is pointless. Yet deep down, I really think I'm too weak and worn down to go through with the whole thing now. It's like that thing when winter passes and it's dangerous for suicidal people because now they have the energy but not the mental stability so they are more likely to do things to themselves. I've stayed in the winter time for years and years now. When it gets better, it doesn't actually, only feels more bearable. When it gets worse, I feel the hurt but I still stay. But the core of it is the same, a wreck that can only cause more wreckage.
It "got better" for some time, while I was dating a girl I could see my life with — not exactly "see my life", per se, but I felt like I could get there one day, because she brought me the needed hope, and I loved her. We broke up two years later, in May of this year, because I'm a person she doesn't want to deal with. My attitude is annoying, my attempts at helping her and supporting her (a thing that's fairly expected from a partner) were not enough to do anything, she fell out of love and got with someone she clicks better with incredibly soon. The worst part is that she's genuinely a good person. I can't just yell "it was cheating" to make myself feel better (I knew she started falling in love with her current partner before we broke up so it technically was emotional cheating; but it's completely not her fault because she tried with me to the best of her ability, to the end). It shattered all of the progress I thought I had made. Back at square one, wanting to just whine about how I don't deserve living and feeding this meat bag is only wasting resources that could've been used for someone who deserves it and how I fucking knew from the beginning because I know this pattern, it's a self-fulfilling prophecy.
So I'm at that place of recognition now. The meds aren't helping, the people I love are all going to come to it one day and realize I'm too much of a burden on top of being annoying and uninteresting, the adhd+ depression+anxiety mix is crushing me in terrible ways so I can't and don't want to do anything, really. There are still people who seem to like me. I think I'll wait on them to leave me before maybe considering trying to kill myself again because I don't want to hurt them like that while they still care.
But it seems inevitable, in a way. It seemed like that's what's destined to happen long before, because I'm still essentially the sixteen year old child swallowing pain meds one after another with a blind desire to end it. I feel like I've never truly moved on, judging by how I've never beaten the ideations, judging by how I still find comfort in harming myself when it gets too much, judging by how everyone is living their lives and I'm here fantasizing about lighting myself on fire as a political protest, to combine three things I want — to make a big statement, to be remembered and to just leave. Judging by how I finally created an account here.
I can't believe I'm twenty three now, maybe because it shouldn't have happened. Maybe it all should've happened the way it did. But I'm a worthless excuse for a human being, a disappointment to everyone, a person someone can move on from in less than a month, a person who uselessly overthinks every single action they do like this action would actually change anything that matters, a person who cries at the slightest tone change in someone's voice. I hate myself so much. It's a pathetic existence, just hurting people who depend on me for some reasons and hurting myself because I deserve to hurt. I might not want to die as much as I just don't think I should live. It doesn't seem like it's worth it, trying to squeeze something out from this life and aching in the process. I want to see things, I want to do things, I want to love and to be loved by people — but it probably won't happen, no matter how long I stick around.
