Tag Archives: suicidal

How are you holding up? Lol, I am not…

Another morning. I wanted to deny it… Turn off the alarm on my phone, shut my eyes tight, and pull the blanket up to my chin. I wanted to rewind and rewind so I could sleep like forever. But the morning registered in my mind painfully, still numbly. I laid awake, slowly gaining awareness of the apartment. The wardrobes were all open; our clothes were flowing out from them and onto the floor. The carpet was so dirty that I could see dead curls of my hair gathered by the door. The smell from the kitchen bothered me, reminding me that I did not do the washing up in ages. The state of this place troubled me beyond measure, causing several sleepless nights, but every time I tried to tidy up I found the barriers of my physical strength knocking me back. By the time I tidied up a small part in the room the bathroom would be sticky with mess… and by the time I could finally do that little by little the room would go all messy again. Maybe I am losing strength and interest lately at a higher rate. – I thought. But I did not dwell on it much because my whole life seemed to be a slow-paced series of losing strength and interest. I saw her standing in the corner again. The ghostlike figure of a girl I kept seeing these past weeks. She nodded, smiled and disappeared. She is my only friend now. Silent for sure, but at least undemanding. Sometimes she is what you call scary if you are not me. When I am in a very low mood blood flows from her eyes. Well, I can’t find it scary. It’s like normal emotions have been blocked by the fog clouding my mind. I opened up a book and sat down to read a little. In two minutes I realized it was too much to ask from myself. I will probably never be able to read a book again. Just cannot concentrate long enough to understand a sentence. One hobby is clearly departing from my life forever; I have to make friends with that thought. It was time to get on the computer and look for work like I have been doing for the past few months. Nothing in this wretched town. Nothing I could do anyway. I chose the wrong education or had too little of it. I am looking for a cleaning job or something I can do mindlessly, because clearly my mind faces difficulties functioning. I turned off my monitor and laid back to bed facing the ceiling. I thought, what I cannot stop thinking, that maybe it is high time for signing off. I remembered having an mp3 player for years that slowly went wrong. At first the back cover loosened so I had to duct tape the thing together but it worked fine. After a while the player did not want to turn on. You had to press the button repeatedly and frantically to turn it on after 20 attempts… but then it worked. Then, after a short while every time I turned it on it only stayed on for minutes… then it lost power. In the end I had to press the button a 100 times but it refused to turn on. It was broken beyond repair, gone forever. I feel like my life came to the same point. The point where there is no reason to keep it running. Later that day I sat in the therapist’s office. I wondered if I should make it my last visit. What was the point anyway; I was a waste of her work hours throughout all these 3 years. Others would give like everything to have someone like her supporting them. But me? I started feeling even angry. Feeling like she keeps on lying to me. Telling me everyone can be healed. Lying to me that I don’t have depression like I suspect… it is “just” the borderline… that’s what’s causing me all this. Not like it mattered at this point. Or ever. Lately I started feeling therapy was like throwing a chicken off the 10th floor saying it will learn to fly on the way down because it has wings after all… and then… when it is dead on the ground standing above it and saying “it did not want it enough I guess”.  Maybe I should just stop trying with those stupid, deformed wings and give her working hours to someone else who actually has the strength and potential to put in the needed effort. Because I have ran out of efforts. Have not talked to any of my friends in weeks either, hoping they would just forget I ever existed. No more efforts to put into anything. I feel like I have turned against the world. The night came and I found myself not keeping up with my tries to look out for cheerful things. I pulled up all the suicide songs I could from my music player and just let myself get lost in them. Someone made me think of hell lately… but I think even hell is better for me than this world. In hell everyone suffers… no one puts on the smiling face or expects you to do it. Maybe I should opt for hell?alice-madness-free-returns-in-278337