August 6, 2016
This is another one of those depressing journal entries I wrote when I was having trouble finding my place in this world.
I crave it all
All or nothing type of person
I don’t want to have to give it up
But if I keep at it, I’m not sure how far I’ll get
Also, If I don’t keep at it, I may lose my head
What’s worse?
I almost want to lose my body before I do my mind
It’s all too much but also not enough at the same time, a recipe for disaster when combined
If it wasn’t for this “all” what would I have?
How would I wash away the lonely, the pain?
Would happiness be something I am even able to attain?
How does one cope with the memories, regrets,
the what if’s, didn’t do’s, the heartache that never let’s?
Is there really a happy place, a home people speak of here on earth?
Do we all have one or is it dependant on our worth?
I’m filled with sorrow and compassion and time is flying by faster than I could have imagined
They tell you to go find the diamond in the rough
I guess I’m too off the handle, not passionate enough
Maybe one day I’ll wake up and the fog will clear
I just hope it’s sooner than later cause I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be here
People that aren’t like me, that don’t feel these involuntary impulses to want to hit their fist on a brick wall, or their head off a door, will only see me as crazy.
That’s okay. Cause I’m not sure this built up energy in my head will ever be released. My brain is like a sponge. It soaks up all the external stimuli around me creating a weight. A weight becoming almost too hard to handle. I am unable of draining the sponge. It just keeps collecting all these emotions from other people, all the hurt, the rejection, the pain. Seems that my brain is a sucker for pain. It seems to only dwell on the negative. The sadness never dissipates. It lingers with everything I do. But I’m always “good” when asked. I seem good.
I’m so not okay. I feel so lost. So in my head. So trapped. Inhibited by my own fears of myself. Of being someone I don’t want to be. Of portraying myself as someone I am not.
The feelings in my head and who I am, never come out the same on the outside. It’s like I’m constantly trying to be someone I’m not, consuming the position of someone else depending on who I am talking to.
There is no me when out in the world. Just 100 different versions of me, then when I’m home I can take the mask off.
And take all my internal anger out on the people I love. Because I’m so angry at my life and who I am. They have to deal with the back lash of it all. Cause I’m too coward to be the real me out there.
So I get mad at everyone else.
Not feeling known by one single person in this world except yourself has GOT to be the loneliest feeling in the world.
The one ultimate poverty we have in this world
To be alone, to feel alone. To have it all but really have nothing.
Cause if you got it all but have no one to call at night to rant about your day or brag about your accomplishments, or just to talk to, what’s the point? What’s the point of being alive if you don’t have anyone? I’m not sure at all that there is a point.
People that say that suicide is the most selfish thing a person can do, does not understand a fucking thing about depression.
Maybe the people who feel the need to end it have already held on for years and years for “everyone else” that seem to care so much as they live in different cities, rarely call and never remember their birthday. Maybe they held on for so long because their hearts were too big to hurt those people.
Then maybe time went on and nothing changed. Life is dull and dreary and boring and unless you have people to share this lifetime with and laugh and be yourself, and have a good time, it’s hard to find a reason for being here.
And it’s not just as simple as that. If you know, you know. If you don’t, it’s just “selfish.”
Imagine constantly feeling like everything was a chore. A trip to the mall could leave you deteriorated mentally and physically. An interview or meeting at work could make you feel depleted and need time alone to rejuvenate just to feel normal again. Imagine every family gathering or work party gave you nerve wracking thoughts, made you question your every move, made you feel uncomfortable in your own skin? Like bugs are crawling under your skin and somebody is playing dodgeball in your brain?
I’m sure these people try to stick around.
I’m sure no one WANTS to put a blade to their fucking wrist or rope around their neck and end it all…
I’m sure no one ever thought they’d grow up and get the feeling they got and weren’t able to rid of it. No one wants to feel alone and worthless. But there is no doubting that it happens on a grand enough scale for people to want to take their own lives for it.
To call them selfish is proving how ignorant you are in my opinion.
If you don’t understand at all how someone can get to the point of wanting to end it all—the hardest thing a human could probably do—then I don’t think you have a right to talk about it.
“Anything is better than death” they say. Yeah? You obviously never felt depression. Never felt that weight on your shoulders that is telling you to give up, because it is so much easier than trying everyday. Being exhausted putting up personas and constantly thinking about what you’re saying or doing wrong and wondering why you can’t get it right like everyone else. When you see everyone around you genuinely looking happy and as if life is enjoyable, it makes you question everyday why you can’t be like that.
And you try. And try, and try. With no results for years and years. If anything, things seem to get worse with time.
I understand, I always will.
Just wish I had the capability to release these people of this feeling.
Everyone deserves to feel cared for, needed, wanted, loved. If I could do that for everyone I would.
Thinking of all the people who have so much to give but no one to give it to breaks my heart.
Lots of people don’t get another chance or close themselves off because they’re scared of being rejected.
I wish more people understand so these people could be loved too.
Everyone just needs at least one person to help break them out of their shell and show them it’s okay to be them.
Someone will fall in love with all our quirks and weirdness, I believe there is someone out their for everyone.
Breaks my heart knowing that some people believe they aren’t worthy of love or are hard to love.
If people made you feel that way, that’s on them.
Everyone is love-able. I wish more people could understand that.
