kolski
ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs
- May 27, 2019
- 115
I'm just venting here because I'm a complete mess and there's no one else I can talk to so please ignore me
I remember the first time I found ss. That night I had been home alone and had stood with a rope around my neck crying my eyes out until I realised I didn't have the guts to do it. Back then I thought I had nothing. No hope, no reason to get up each morning and no fucking choice but to end it. And I hate myself for it. Not because I've changed and become this 'amazing saint', because now it's 1:38am and I'm writing this because tomorrow I don't know if I'm even going to feel human again.
I logged on ss again a week into the new year. I remember that night on New Years getting completely wasted and screaming happy new year on the street outside my house. And in that moment I so wanted to believe that this year was going to different. This year wouldn't be another one of getting hit after hit after hit. Every year before this one had been ridiculously bad, so that night I prayed for a second chance for something good. And I was wrong. At this point it feels like a funny joke gone just plain right cruel.
I cant give details, and I know the chance of anyone who actually knows me finding this is stupidly low, but I guess I'm just paranoid. So a long story short, a relative of mine broke up with there now ex. Now this ex,, I don't think I can legally say what I think of them, so I'll just say they're a piece of shit. And what they did is beyond unforgivable. And what kills me is that I trusted them. They were my friend. At one point I really did think they were a good person. And even though I know they're not, there's still a part of me that misses them.
Just how much of low life do you have to be to miss the person that hurt your relative that bad that they broke down crying in front of you, unable to barely speak, when they never even cried at your grandmothers funeral?
I can't even express how disgusted I am of myself. How ashamed and guilty I feel for these thoughts. And how shit I am for even writing down this when I should be focusing on them, making sure they are okay because it's not about me. But dear god it still hurts.
And after all that, I didnt even time to breathe. Another relative got sick, and another. I've been trying so hard to be strong for them, but I'm barely holding it together.
I know have ppl around me who care. The missed calls, and ignored texts; the never returned messages and random 'we care' show it. But I don't want them to care. I want to be left alone. I want to suffer. I am not a good person. I don't deserve there thoughts.
It's 2:27am now, and so comes the finale of this shit show of a vent. The part were it makes me physically sick to think about. The part were that urge to find a rope and be done with everything is the only thing I want right now.
Here enters my best friend. Someone who has unknowingly saved me so many times. Someone who is so beautiful and kind, and even though they had bad start to life, they never held it against anyone. I can't begin to tell you how much they deserve life, and how much they would make a difference to it. And this is were I tell you that for the last 3 years, I've watched every day as they've got sicker and sicker. Tried so many treatments that we've lost count, been let down by countless professionals, and now has only a bucket full of fake promises and empty hope. And yet they still smile and try so hard to make make every one else happy.
I have given my everything to help. So many hours of research, so many hours at treatments, so much money for the next 'cure' thats just an empty promise again. Its not about the money, it's never been. I'm not rich, but I couldn't care less about the costs. It's the fact they saved me. And if it's the only thing I ever achieve in my life, I need to save them.
I know I talk about monsters a lot. I think its probably because of a few years ago as I was waiting for a friend after college, a guy I didn't know turned around, looked me straight in the eyes, and asked me 'What is a monster?'. And since then every time I thought about that question, i always came to the same the conclusion that, I am a monster. Because if I love this friend so much, and truly wanted to save them, then why do some days I wish they were dead?
Some times I sit in bed with a bottle of whiskey and razor blade and I don't want to stop until I hit a vein. Because I am a monster who's deepest secret is that I wish all this hurting and pain would just stop. Just why would I want that I fucking love them why would I think that what the fuck is wrong with me
All my stupid thoughts don't matter now. Because tomorrow is our last chance of finding a cure. 9:15am, Friday, 12th March 2021. Tomorrow is our last hope.
I don't want to wake up.
I remember the first time I found ss. That night I had been home alone and had stood with a rope around my neck crying my eyes out until I realised I didn't have the guts to do it. Back then I thought I had nothing. No hope, no reason to get up each morning and no fucking choice but to end it. And I hate myself for it. Not because I've changed and become this 'amazing saint', because now it's 1:38am and I'm writing this because tomorrow I don't know if I'm even going to feel human again.
I logged on ss again a week into the new year. I remember that night on New Years getting completely wasted and screaming happy new year on the street outside my house. And in that moment I so wanted to believe that this year was going to different. This year wouldn't be another one of getting hit after hit after hit. Every year before this one had been ridiculously bad, so that night I prayed for a second chance for something good. And I was wrong. At this point it feels like a funny joke gone just plain right cruel.
I cant give details, and I know the chance of anyone who actually knows me finding this is stupidly low, but I guess I'm just paranoid. So a long story short, a relative of mine broke up with there now ex. Now this ex,, I don't think I can legally say what I think of them, so I'll just say they're a piece of shit. And what they did is beyond unforgivable. And what kills me is that I trusted them. They were my friend. At one point I really did think they were a good person. And even though I know they're not, there's still a part of me that misses them.
Just how much of low life do you have to be to miss the person that hurt your relative that bad that they broke down crying in front of you, unable to barely speak, when they never even cried at your grandmothers funeral?
I can't even express how disgusted I am of myself. How ashamed and guilty I feel for these thoughts. And how shit I am for even writing down this when I should be focusing on them, making sure they are okay because it's not about me. But dear god it still hurts.
And after all that, I didnt even time to breathe. Another relative got sick, and another. I've been trying so hard to be strong for them, but I'm barely holding it together.
I know have ppl around me who care. The missed calls, and ignored texts; the never returned messages and random 'we care' show it. But I don't want them to care. I want to be left alone. I want to suffer. I am not a good person. I don't deserve there thoughts.
It's 2:27am now, and so comes the finale of this shit show of a vent. The part were it makes me physically sick to think about. The part were that urge to find a rope and be done with everything is the only thing I want right now.
Here enters my best friend. Someone who has unknowingly saved me so many times. Someone who is so beautiful and kind, and even though they had bad start to life, they never held it against anyone. I can't begin to tell you how much they deserve life, and how much they would make a difference to it. And this is were I tell you that for the last 3 years, I've watched every day as they've got sicker and sicker. Tried so many treatments that we've lost count, been let down by countless professionals, and now has only a bucket full of fake promises and empty hope. And yet they still smile and try so hard to make make every one else happy.
I have given my everything to help. So many hours of research, so many hours at treatments, so much money for the next 'cure' thats just an empty promise again. Its not about the money, it's never been. I'm not rich, but I couldn't care less about the costs. It's the fact they saved me. And if it's the only thing I ever achieve in my life, I need to save them.
I know I talk about monsters a lot. I think its probably because of a few years ago as I was waiting for a friend after college, a guy I didn't know turned around, looked me straight in the eyes, and asked me 'What is a monster?'. And since then every time I thought about that question, i always came to the same the conclusion that, I am a monster. Because if I love this friend so much, and truly wanted to save them, then why do some days I wish they were dead?
Some times I sit in bed with a bottle of whiskey and razor blade and I don't want to stop until I hit a vein. Because I am a monster who's deepest secret is that I wish all this hurting and pain would just stop. Just why would I want that I fucking love them why would I think that what the fuck is wrong with me
All my stupid thoughts don't matter now. Because tomorrow is our last chance of finding a cure. 9:15am, Friday, 12th March 2021. Tomorrow is our last hope.
I don't want to wake up.
