lobster salad
overcooked :(
- Aug 27, 2020
- 246
The moment you start talking about suicide you get immediate backlash from it.
The parents and family will immediately judge like you're a pussy or something or you're joking like most common fuckheads out about. In the rare occasions they take you seriously they say dumb shit advices and things which they perceive as help but really don't change the mind. Their insights address unrelated challenges. Sometimes they say straight out threats (talking about my family) that they will kill themselves too after or take the whole family out with them to deter from suicide.
Personally am not sure how it could help myself by knowing that or if anyone is helping by saying that.
Friends are nice and compassionate they talk some understand. Best and most sadistically some relate, but soon enough get tired and stop talking; they don't respond with much and always after a long period of time. Some cease to respond anymore and you feel like you're talking to yourself or that everyone is too busy for you that reaching out makes you feel worse. It gets to a point where you have to reach out to new people over and over again and say the same thing over and over again and you think this comforts you because you were comforted by old friends understanding you but come to realise that talking to people you don't know and explaining everything all over time and time again is futile hard work and doesn't bring nearly as much compassion if any at all.
The problem lies from within, your mind and personality warped into repititiveness, both in view of yourself and the surrounding environment.
You deserve to feel bad and to feel the guilt you hate because it was your fault this happened. You let it, your body did not anyone else.
The more pondering, the finding that compassion you seek only makes you an attention seeking person and moreover less worthy of social attention.
Resignedly, you know suicide should be avoided to talk about however your mind constantly torments and repeats its thoughts and words about suicide in the head, you're all alone and others suffering the same are suffering just too much to help you either. It is up to you but you don't have the energy to fight through it, nobody cares not even yourself.
You wish selfishly they did and you weren't this ; worthless. But realise that the latter isn't worth the thought of rebuttal, you were always this way. Importantly, moreover when you started thinking about it, and why you started thinking about it. Became from the mind that started the tormenting repetitive thoughts that totally fucked your mood up and your genuine internal speech , and external if you couldn't suppress that to others.
You're alone, you selfishly want help, you know you can't help yourself because in the times you tried it has never changed anything. You look at others and they look at you, it's a delay-game of the undeniable. There's no hope, and the deed is awaited to be done.
You have had the misfortune of contracting an incurable disease, one so subtle and invisible you will forever be invalidated for it and internally reminded that you deserve nothing you deserve, not this electronic device you read and type this on or a roof over your head. Not your parents you leach on whom feed you unconditionally. You realise how spoiled you are and how you deserved to be like this anyways.
What you kind-of want, help, and to be better is too much to ask for both for yourself and others. It's not even what you deserve if attainable
You want to do something about it but you know internally you really don't, the laziness is too chronic, and that you're just playing through and running the plan to the end. Effort took too much and takes more and more. Looking, thinking about at it realistically... is so painful that the head physically aches when undistracted.
You drop more and more goals until-
you have one last goal in life, to end life.
The parents and family will immediately judge like you're a pussy or something or you're joking like most common fuckheads out about. In the rare occasions they take you seriously they say dumb shit advices and things which they perceive as help but really don't change the mind. Their insights address unrelated challenges. Sometimes they say straight out threats (talking about my family) that they will kill themselves too after or take the whole family out with them to deter from suicide.
Personally am not sure how it could help myself by knowing that or if anyone is helping by saying that.
Friends are nice and compassionate they talk some understand. Best and most sadistically some relate, but soon enough get tired and stop talking; they don't respond with much and always after a long period of time. Some cease to respond anymore and you feel like you're talking to yourself or that everyone is too busy for you that reaching out makes you feel worse. It gets to a point where you have to reach out to new people over and over again and say the same thing over and over again and you think this comforts you because you were comforted by old friends understanding you but come to realise that talking to people you don't know and explaining everything all over time and time again is futile hard work and doesn't bring nearly as much compassion if any at all.
The problem lies from within, your mind and personality warped into repititiveness, both in view of yourself and the surrounding environment.
You deserve to feel bad and to feel the guilt you hate because it was your fault this happened. You let it, your body did not anyone else.
The more pondering, the finding that compassion you seek only makes you an attention seeking person and moreover less worthy of social attention.
Resignedly, you know suicide should be avoided to talk about however your mind constantly torments and repeats its thoughts and words about suicide in the head, you're all alone and others suffering the same are suffering just too much to help you either. It is up to you but you don't have the energy to fight through it, nobody cares not even yourself.
You wish selfishly they did and you weren't this ; worthless. But realise that the latter isn't worth the thought of rebuttal, you were always this way. Importantly, moreover when you started thinking about it, and why you started thinking about it. Became from the mind that started the tormenting repetitive thoughts that totally fucked your mood up and your genuine internal speech , and external if you couldn't suppress that to others.
You're alone, you selfishly want help, you know you can't help yourself because in the times you tried it has never changed anything. You look at others and they look at you, it's a delay-game of the undeniable. There's no hope, and the deed is awaited to be done.
You have had the misfortune of contracting an incurable disease, one so subtle and invisible you will forever be invalidated for it and internally reminded that you deserve nothing you deserve, not this electronic device you read and type this on or a roof over your head. Not your parents you leach on whom feed you unconditionally. You realise how spoiled you are and how you deserved to be like this anyways.
What you kind-of want, help, and to be better is too much to ask for both for yourself and others. It's not even what you deserve if attainable
You want to do something about it but you know internally you really don't, the laziness is too chronic, and that you're just playing through and running the plan to the end. Effort took too much and takes more and more. Looking, thinking about at it realistically... is so painful that the head physically aches when undistracted.
You drop more and more goals until-
you have one last goal in life, to end life.
